She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.
Today I felt like starting
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
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.
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
in a post. I want to be remembered
Thank you, Jack
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08
I am below everything.
magnetisation/form
amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting
to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos
send your tumblr
its performative
lol
it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful
autonomy of learning
is everyoneback on tumblr now
think this is much more rhizomatic or immanent or mazelike than mainstream education now
i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls
we want to live the knowledge too live the content