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I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

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

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

god being the centre magnet

its good

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.

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

magnetises a pin

i believe search always should be immersive, because whatever is pre planned and non consuming (what you are looking for is total engulfment by the spectre of the real), a joyous intensity, a flow of virtue

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

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

so the method has to be autonomous

really i want the internet

plato

what do you think my name is

so at the end

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

i want to do that too

The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

Better Lift