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

what do you think my name is

its performative

autonomy of learning

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

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

not their contents

I am below everything.

god "possessing" artists "possessing" people

Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk

you cannot feed someone truth

all that is to say

to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos

ion

i understand

Lift Analysis

Better Lift

we can only engage in such a way

its good

like magnets

i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

which magnetises chains of pins

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.

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site