I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful

And thank you for telling me that the manner in which the narrator consistently fails to act morally is really compelling. Fuck you.

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

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

1

all that is to say

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.

autonomy of learning

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

FOUNDING DOCUMENT

Thank you, Jack

we can only engage in such a way

mazelike/rhizomatic/immanent/emergent are not antithetical to a transcendent real but its very manifestation

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

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

The old failed actor genuinely believed this girl was of a lesser race. He believed she shouldn't be talking with me, shouldn't be here at this party, shouldn't be here in this country. He wanted a white England. I didn't really challenge him on it. Sometimes I justify it with thoughts like I was drunk, or baffled, or it isn't an argument I'll win, or he can't hear me anyway, or whatever. I didn't argue with him. I just cut off his rant and left with a pathetic "In a bit."

It was about a crazy lady who lived above his flat in Pimlico. She would let pigeons into her flat so she could feed them. Apparently she didn't want her presence in the flat to interfere with the natural behaviour of the pigeons, so she would let them nest and shit in there and she wouldn't clean it up, because it wasn't natural to do so. The pigeons would die, but apart from the smell and the sludge and the gas, the corpses weren't really a problem. It was the rats that came to eat them. The rats would eat the rotting pigeon corpses mixed in with the rotting pigeon shit and they would get ill and die too. New rats that came through wouldn't mind though, and they'd start to eat the mass, only to get sick and die in it later on. The population grew steadily as more pigeons and rats came from in the cold, to live naturally. They fed the mass further.