like first name

Better Lift

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

1

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

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.

that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.

It Will Get Lighter

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

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

Worse Lift

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

And thank you for telling me that the manner in which the narrator consistently fails to act morally is really compelling. Fuck you.

we can only engage in such a way

isaac

not their contents

much more tactility

send your tumblr

okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate

god being the centre magnet