Pimlico Rats

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.

you cannot feed someone truth

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

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

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

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

i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

not their contents

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?

okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate

propensity within someone

there is a distinction between western-modern pedagogical systems that's like text-based as in a legal method but there is an idea of "pathshala" or "guru shissho"/ "porompora" i mean how masters relayed knowledge to the student by (oral) transmission often by memorising books. so what was taught was always interactive. knowledge was interactive, you spoke with people rather than read texts.

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

I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.

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