Better Lift
I am below everything.
as in
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
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.
the textwall is as much for me as it is for you
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.
wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me
Thank you, Jack
Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
you have a beautiful account btw
we want to live the knowledge too live the content
i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
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
i really havent
lol
your feed looks like my tumblr
i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate
in a post. I want to be remembered