yes
i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it
it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.
ahnaf is it worth reading all those books
you cannot feed someone truth
this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet
I am below everything.
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.
in a way what we are really interested in with pedagogy is the magnetisation
send your tumblr
its performative