Today I felt like starting

sorry i am texting like a slav

no like which do people call me

kind of mythopoesis

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

I am below everything.

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

bro i read nothing in my life

its performative

so an active mazelike process

god being the centre magnet

which magnetises chains of pins

was it worth it

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

god "possessing" artists "possessing" people

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.

i was tempted to lie about my name

ion

i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things

you have a beautiful account btw

bro i read nothing in my life

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

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