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.

we need to be deconstructing our identities

is everyoneback on tumblr now

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

lol yea

okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate

ahnaf abrar

is this you as well

autonomy of learning

in a post. I want to be remembered

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.

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

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.

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?

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

abrar?

or never left

not their contents

plato

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

isaac

It Will Get Lighter

as in

I am below everything.

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.

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.

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.

that looks like my instagram account

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

its good