my watchlater reached its limit years ago and now i have to create a playlist for each new topic im interested in but it is incredibly hard to create the taxonomy of knowledge because everything seems to be everything else because at the end it is what you get from it that matters not what is given

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

I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.

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

i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate

i have read not even 1 book

idk

i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things

what do you think my name is

...

send your tumblr

yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf

lol yea

fw

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

stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time

i want to do that too

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

1

There is a pretty persistent ambient hate in England, a lot of people say vile shit about Muslims or immigrants or whatever, but in my experience most people aren't actual white supremacists. They have a black friend who they get a beer with. One of the good ones. Etc.

that looks like my instagram account

Thank you, Jack

Maybe, Jack, I'm doing this because I'm English?

yeah

Actual born-Londoners aren't LARPing like this, they sold their shite family home for a million pounds and moved to Malaga years ago. They have their culture and they've taken it elsewhere.

It Will Get Lighter

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

i believe search always should be immersive, because whatever is pre planned and non consuming (what you are looking for is total engulfment by the spectre of the real), a joyous intensity, a flow of virtue

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.

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.

the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?