Better Lift

we can only engage in such a way

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

really i want the internet

its performative

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

magnetisation/form

I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.

Style

13, H, grate

division of reality is straying away from it

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it

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.

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

not their contents

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

It Will Get Lighter

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08

autonomy of learning

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

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

think this is much more rhizomatic or immanent or mazelike than mainstream education now

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

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.

Pimlico Rats

This is a website run by a narcissist who can't produce anything without the hope that it is seen and loved but can't act due to the fear of it being seen and hated. They immediately feel the need to ask Jack GPT to define whatever this feeling is in the hope that understanding it will mean control over it and control over it will mean that they can stop it.

I Write Goodbye Letter

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.

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.