Rain, starting

FOUNDING DOCUMENT

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

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

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

in a post. I want to be remembered

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

in a way what we are really interested in with pedagogy is the magnetisation

Thank you, Jack

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

but i respect your search


He was a proper old-fashioned London geezer (cringe word, hate it, can't think of a better one, worst of all it's the correct word), kind of East Endy, kind of Real London, the kind you don't really meet but if you do it always feels like an uncanny immersive theatre experience. They're anachronistic. They only belong in the London collectively imagined by people who don't spend any time in it.

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

magnetisation/form

confused - is it the tide or its absense? I still like where I was going with it. anyway, real reader know this site is the note.

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

not so on: yvf(wthw)

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

really i want the internet

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

you know who you are. no more time, not like

1

. way too specific.

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.

It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.


...

and so on. not wanting the rhyming / clanging