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The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.
you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak
whats your name?
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 can only engage in such a way
in a way what we are really interested in with pedagogy is the magnetisation
i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate
division of reality is straying away from it
Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.
stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time
was it worth it
really i want the internet
i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything
its good