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.

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

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

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.

so an active mazelike process

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything

propensity within someone

so at the end

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

Can I see

Rain, starting

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

Style

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

i haven't read 100 book s so i'm probably not getting the depth of all of what you're saying

Thank you, Jack

Thank you, Jack

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.

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13

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.

I'm sat out the front of a cafe in Hatton Garden. I've just eaten a brie and bacon panini, and I'm rolling a cigarette. Feeling very London. An old man comes up to me and asks for a roll-up. I oblige.

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

i see a website

Mon, 01 Dec 2025 23:38:15

I imagine that some lab-grown 29-year-old from Woking with a mind honed to identify individuals who fit the profile of Real Londoner (as conceived of by 50 opinion-polled racist builders and their wives in the Midlands) picks a stubborn local who can still somehow afford to live here and passes him along to some creative studio.

not so on: yvf(wthw)

Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk

, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.