This is a website run by a narcissist who can't produce anything without the hope that it is seen and loved but can't act due to the fear of it being seen and hated. They immediately feel the need to ask Jack GPT to define whatever this feeling is in the hope that understanding it will mean control over it and control over it will mean that they can stop it.
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 have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.much more tactility
like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them
its performative
i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything
but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos
wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
currently
amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
magnetisation/form
i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it
mazelike/rhizomatic/immanent/emergent are not antithetical to a transcendent real but its very manifestation
we can only engage in such a way
you cannot feed someone truth
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.
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.