okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate

so at the end

really i want the internet

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

propensity within someone

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

so an active mazelike process

what do you think my name is

barren land

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

amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting

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

is everyoneback on tumblr now

which magnetises chains of pins

you have a beautiful account btw

yeah

no i haven't really read anything

brb i will read and reply sincerely

its good

god being the centre magnet

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

isaac

The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.

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.

Thank you, Jack, for telling me I'm just as bad as the characters (actually they're people, if that means anything to you) that I'm writing about.

We look out over the river to a block of luxury flats built on the site of some old docks. It would be nice to live right there. Yes. The conversation drifts to the pleasantness of warm lighting and whether anyone needs a smart home. I interrupt her to make a joke about the French Raj as he runs up the causeway. We stand there laughing. The fireworks go off behind him.