Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.

i really havent

whats your name?

and the fake qualifier

its good

and the fake qualifier

isaac

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

we need to be deconstructing our identities

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

god being the centre magnet

i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me

what do you think my name is

magnetises a pin

i haven't read 100 book s so i'm probably not getting the depth of all of what you're saying

no longer writing in the third person

so at the end

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

much more tactility

feel you

the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book

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.

a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

yeah

stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time

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