think this is much more rhizomatic or immanent or mazelike than mainstream education now
currently
I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
It's
dusk
in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
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.
"Put a blanket."
Better Lift
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.
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.
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.