hiding from the rain

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.

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

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

its good

ion

Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.

i want to do that too

i have read not even 1 book

we need to be deconstructing our identities

and the fake qualifier

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

barren land

plato

a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it

i really havent

kind of mythopoesis

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.

or never left

i did until you asked which kind of gave it away

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

so the method has to be autonomous

I am below everything.

mazelike/rhizomatic/immanent/emergent are not antithetical to a transcendent real but its very manifestation

autonomy of learning

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

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

bro i read nothing in my life