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
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
really i want the internet
not their contents
I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them
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
its performative
the textwall is as much for me as it is for you
Today I felt like starting
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.
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.
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
which magnetises chains of pins
barren land
i have read not even 1 book
no i haven't really read anything