One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

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.

fw

lol yea

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

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

i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls

much more tactility

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

barren land

there is a distinction between western-modern pedagogical systems that's like text-based as in a legal method but there is an idea of "pathshala" or "guru shissho"/ "porompora" i mean how masters relayed knowledge to the student by (oral) transmission often by memorising books. so what was taught was always interactive. knowledge was interactive, you spoke with people rather than read texts.

all that is to say

I am below everything.

i did until you asked which kind of gave it away

is this you as well

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

so an active mazelike process

god being the centre magnet

Rain, starting

its good short few pages

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

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.