Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf

lol yea

we can only engage in such a way

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

its performative

division of reality is straying away from it

magnetisation/form

so the method has to be autonomous

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

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

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

mazelike/rhizomatic/immanent/emergent are not antithetical to a transcendent real but its very manifestation

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.

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

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

no longer writing in the third person

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

autonomy of learning

fw

send your tumblr

lol


After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

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

i have read not even 1 book

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

is everyoneback on tumblr now


i see a website

They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.

kind of mythopoesis