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.

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

"Put a blanket."
"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models

as in

Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl

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

you cannot feed someone truth


its performative

bro i read nothing in my life

god being the centre magnet

Lift Analysis

He was a proper old-fashioned London geezer (cringe word, hate it, can't think of a better one, worst of all it's the correct word), kind of East Endy, kind of Real London, the kind you don't really meet but if you do it always feels like an uncanny immersive theatre experience. They're anachronistic. They only belong in the London collectively imagined by people who don't spend any time in it.

yeah

2 (actually index). two is company

i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then

...

i love it here

in a post. I want to be remembered