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

Thank you for telling me that I'm failing to see how I'm reproducing the dynamics I'm trying to critique by only describing my Korean colleague / fresh meat and the black girl in relation to others and myself.

so the method has to be autonomous

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

propensity within someone

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

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate

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.

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

i have read not even 1 book

as in

magnetisation/form

send your tumblr

autonomy of learning

much more tactility

so an active mazelike process

barren land

division of reality is straying away from it

and the fake qualifier

yeah

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

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.

amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting

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

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

a version of this existed for a few months last year but it was static. it was HTML with writing and pictures and videos and sounds. i had this feeling that the code should be as important as the content, that structurally each piece in relation to each other piece shouldn't change, that the mazelike quality should emerge from me intricately arranging paths through it. like classic hypertext

...

I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.

...

She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.