The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
currently
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them
not their contents
we can only engage in such a way
division of reality is straying away from it
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
all that is to say
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
autonomy of learning
This is a website run by a narcissist who can't produce anything without the hope that it is seen and loved but can't act due to the fear of it being seen and hated. They immediately feel the need to ask Jack GPT to define whatever this feeling is in the hope that understanding it will mean control over it and control over it will mean that they can stop it.
so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged
you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak
i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me
a version of this existed for a few months last year but it was static. it was HTML with writing and pictures and videos and sounds. i had this feeling that the code should be as important as the content, that structurally each piece in relation to each other piece shouldn't change, that the mazelike quality should emerge from me intricately arranging paths through it. like classic hypertext
i see a website