We stand there laughing. The fireworks go off behind him.

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them

so the method has to be autonomous

you cannot feed someone truth

propensity within someone

division of reality is straying away from it

i have read not even 1 book

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

much more tactility

okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models

autonomy of learning

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.

we can only engage in such a way

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

currently

which magnetises chains of pins

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.

what do you mean

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

its performative

i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate

no longer writing in the third person

yeah

abrar?