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Rain, starting

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

in a post. I want to be remembered

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

the point of this was to try and avoid this narcissistic death spiral I'm in by acting anonymously and impulsively. how can that feeling that even Jack can't describe paralyse me if my name isn't next to any of this? the excitement of believing I just need a new process has overcome me and I have cummed out an empty webpage.

so an active mazelike process

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.

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

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

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.

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

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13

to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos

so at the end

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.

okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate

Worse Lift

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

hiding from the rain

not their contents

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.

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls

a version of this existed for a few months last year but it was static. it was HTML with writing and pictures and videos and sounds. i had this feeling that the code should be as important as the content, that structurally each piece in relation to each other piece shouldn't change, that the mazelike quality should emerge from me intricately arranging paths through it. like classic hypertext

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

you cannot feed someone truth