I'm sat out the front of a cafe in Hatton Garden. I've just eaten a brie and bacon panini, and I'm rolling a cigarette. Feeling very London. An old man comes up to me and asks for a roll-up. I oblige.
something religious, a kind of complex,
it will get lighter
, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after
dusk
, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.currently
brb i will read and reply sincerely
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
so an active mazelike process
Better Lift
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
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46
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.
much more tactility
Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41
like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them
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
i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything
kind of mythopoesis
really i want the internet
as in
thank you
no like which do people call me
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
i really havent
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.
Thank you, Jack