we need to be deconstructing our identities
sorry i am texting like a slav
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
whats your name?
i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything
autonomy of learning
god being the centre magnet
amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting
you cannot feed someone truth
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
no i haven't really read anything
what do you mean
i am quite illiterate on producing technology
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
i understand
the point of this was to try and avoid this narcissistic death spiral I'm in by acting anonymously and impulsively. how can that feeling that even Jack can't describe paralyse me if my name isn't next to any of this? the excitement of believing I just need a new process has overcome me and I have cummed out an empty webpage.
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models
He went in there with a camera to film it before he moved out of the building. He didn't think anyone would believe the story if he didn't have proof.
we can only engage in such a way
it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!
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.
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
or never left
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46