no like which do people call me
I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank.
autonomy of learning
i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things
We look out over the river to a block of luxury flats built on the site of some old docks. It would be nice to live right there. Yes.
i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything
They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.
much more tactility
isaac newton
my watchlater reached its limit years ago and now i have to create a playlist for each new topic im interested in but it is incredibly hard to create the taxonomy of knowledge because everything seems to be everything else because at the end it is what you get from it that matters not what is given
to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos
idk
something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever
December 2025
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.
Overall meaning: The dream seems to explore vulnerability, unspoken emotion, and the tension between connection and isolation. It suggests you may be processing intense feelings of longing or missed opportunities, and your subconscious is guiding you to acknowledge, release, or transform them.
barren land
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
in a post. I want to be remembered
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.