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

all that is to say

Can I see

yes

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

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

division of reality is straying away from it

so the method has to be autonomous

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

i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

but i respect your search

autonomy of learning

that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.

magnetisation/form

really i want the internet

i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate

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.

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

Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?