in a way what we are really interested in with pedagogy is the magnetisation

all that is to say

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

we can only engage in such a way

there is a distinction between western-modern pedagogical systems that's like text-based as in a legal method but there is an idea of "pathshala" or "guru shissho"/ "porompora" i mean how masters relayed knowledge to the student by (oral) transmission often by memorising books. so what was taught was always interactive. knowledge was interactive, you spoke with people rather than read texts.

so at the end

its performative

the site i am dreaming

confused - is it the tide or its absense? I still like where I was going with it. anyway, real reader know this site is the note.

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

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

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

Style

not so on: yvf(wthw)

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

hello reader,

so the method has to be autonomous

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.

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.

send your tumblr

as in

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

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.