Rain, starting

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

Lift Analysis

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.

yes

kind of mythopoesis

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

13, H, grate

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.

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

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

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.

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

i did until you asked which kind of gave it away

I am below everything.

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

what do you mean

isaac newton

like magnets

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

we can only engage in such a way