isaac
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.
something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever
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.
to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos
wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me
brb i will read and reply sincerely
there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.
mazelike/rhizomatic/immanent/emergent are not antithetical to a transcendent real but its very manifestation
I am below everything.
you have a beautiful account btw
the textwall is as much for me as it is for you
He was cast as the guy who gets picked up and thrown out of the poker game to set the scene before the main characters arrive. Out of Real London and into real London, a discarded prop, at this party, chatting to me.
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
i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine
December 2025
i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then
thank you
i love it here
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.