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.

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

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.

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
"Put a blanket."

It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

hiding from the rain

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

idk

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

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

you cannot feed someone truth

I am below everything.

think this is much more rhizomatic or immanent or mazelike than mainstream education now