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.

It Will Get Lighter

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.

I am below everything.

Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?

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

i don't really want to be associated with that one for some reason

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

okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate

its performative

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

autonomy of learning

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them

Picture

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

i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything

stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time

It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

as in

sorry i am texting like a slav

okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models

have you read

its good