Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.
i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse
i haven't read 100 book s so i'm probably not getting the depth of all of what you're saying
division of reality is straying away from it
okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate
but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos
a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it
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.
the textwall is as much for me as it is for you
sorry i am texting like a slav
i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate
And thank you for telling me that the manner in which the narrator consistently fails to act morally is really compelling. Fuck you.
so at the end
no i haven't really read anything
The old failed actor genuinely believed this girl was of a lesser race. He believed she shouldn't be talking with me, shouldn't be here at this party, shouldn't be here in this country. He wanted a white England. I didn't really challenge him on it. Sometimes I justify it with thoughts like I was drunk, or baffled, or it isn't an argument I'll win, or he can't hear me anyway, or whatever. I didn't argue with him. I just cut off his rant and left with a pathetic "In a bit."
yeah
have you read
plato
your feed looks like my tumblr
its good
The Hatton geezer (fuck off) reminds me of this old failed actor who I'd met at a party a few years ago, another man out of time and out of place. This actor had scored a minor role in Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels and never really let go of it, had gone on to build his whole identity around it. I can't really blame him.