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

i love it here

propensity within someone

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

isaac newton

what do you mean

plato

as in

ion

you cannot feed someone truth

its good

all that is to say

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

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

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

its good

lol

i am quite illiterate on producing technology

magnetisation/form

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

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

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

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.

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.

whats your name?

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

isaac

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."