your feed looks like my tumblr

you cannot feed someone truth

or never left

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

so an active mazelike process

i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine

way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it

send link

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

barren land

yeah

okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate

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

much more tactility

not their contents

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.

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.

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

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.

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

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.

13, H, grate

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

that looks like my instagram account

the site i am dreaming

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

to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos

i love it here