"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it
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
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
Lift Analysis
i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse
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 am below everything.
autonomy of learning
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
Can I see
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.
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
A procession forms behind the French Raj and his fireworks bearer as they head out the door. I've lost my Korean colleague / fresh meat in the chaos. I'm sure he'll be able to fend for himself. They have mandatory military service in Korea.
I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.
but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos
hiding from the rain
mazelike/rhizomatic/immanent/emergent are not antithetical to a transcendent real but its very manifestation
⚠️ Live Document Forever ⚠️
I'm getting bored and he can tell, so he shifts the topic towards me. He tells me he'd spotted me chatting to a girl earlier, a black girl, and asks what I thought of her, if I liked her. I mimed affirmatively.
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.
As we're stood there I notice a middle-aged woman staring at us across the room. I'm trying to catch her gaze, but its kind of vacant. I guess she sees me looking and considers it to be an invitation. She floats over to us in this strange dazed way, and on the approach I realise she's staring at (through?) my Korean colleague / fresh meat. She's saying wow, wow, wow. She seems genuinely so delighted, so shocked, so elated.