thank you
"Put a blanket."
i really havent
i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse
whats your name?
so at the end
the site i am dreaming
Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17
i want to do that too
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.
i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate
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
its good
i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls
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.
really i want the internet
wait what is that
that looks like my instagram account
there is a distinction between western-modern pedagogical systems that's like text-based as in a legal method but there is an idea of "pathshala" or "guru shissho"/ "porompora" i mean how masters relayed knowledge to the student by (oral) transmission often by memorising books. so what was taught was always interactive. knowledge was interactive, you spoke with people rather than read texts.
which magnetises chains of pins
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
ahnaf is it worth reading all those books
After I get away from the old racist failed actor, I go to see my Korean colleague. He's just arrived in London and I want to see how he's handling the party. We'd been invited as fresh meat for some of the older, gayer attendees. We aren't aware of that.
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.
kind of mythopoesis
like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them