i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things

currently

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

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

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.

idk

i see a website

no longer writing in the third person

we need to be deconstructing our identities

my watchlater reached its limit years ago and now i have to create a playlist for each new topic im interested in but it is incredibly hard to create the taxonomy of knowledge because everything seems to be everything else because at the end it is what you get from it that matters not what is given

or never left

fw

ion

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

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

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.

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.

it is hopeful


what do you mean

stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time

like first name

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

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

isaac newton