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.

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.

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

"Put a blanket."

We gather around the start of a causeway down to the Thames. It's a pretty cold night and there's a breeze coming off the river.

its performative

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

i have read not even 1 book

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

as in

in a way what we are really interested in with pedagogy is the magnetisation

your feed looks like my tumblr

yeah

i understand

sorry i am texting like a slav

send your tumblr

is everyoneback on tumblr now

thank you

magnetisation/form

plato

so at the end

so the method has to be autonomous

yeah

it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!

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

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

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