Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

no longer writing in the third person

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk

, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.

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.

think this is much more rhizomatic or immanent or mazelike than mainstream education now

its performative

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

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.

was it worth it

i haven't read 100 book s so i'm probably not getting the depth of all of what you're saying

i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

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

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.

amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting

Thank you, Jack