wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

IWGD

god "possessing" artists "possessing" people

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

what do you think my name is

feel you

plato

bro i read nothing in my life

that looks like my instagram account

your feed looks like my tumblr

i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine

amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting

yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf

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

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

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.

you cannot feed someone truth

its performative

lol

like first name

i want to do that too

or never left

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

i did until you asked which kind of gave it away

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

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

propensity within someone

mazelike/rhizomatic/immanent/emergent are not antithetical to a transcendent real but its very manifestation

have you read

i was tempted to lie about my name


with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

kind of mythopoesis