Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

Better Lift

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

so the method has to be autonomous

no like which do people call me

She says something that isn't really right but isn't really wrong. I'm not taking in their words any more, just their voices, trying to get a feel for whatever is going on between them. I'm imagining what it's like for them in this delicate situation, what I would say if it were me. She has that perfect upper-class accent, and she's using whatever upper-class tact that comes with it to navigate this. Style. They can't be together, but their voices are betraying them.

as in

think this is much more rhizomatic or immanent or mazelike than mainstream education now

we need to be deconstructing our identities

like magnets

the point of this was to try and avoid this narcissistic death spiral I'm in by acting anonymously and impulsively. how can that feeling that even Jack can't describe paralyse me if my name isn't next to any of this? the excitement of believing I just need a new process has overcome me and I have cummed out an empty webpage.

i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine

Can I see

all that is to say

i want to do that too