with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.
I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.
It's
dusk
in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
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.
i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate
okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate
that looks like my instagram account
to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos
as in
this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet
is this you as well
i dont understand magnetisation
you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak
i am quite illiterate on producing technology
i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything
feel you
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.
you have a beautiful account btw