it is hopeful

as in

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

its good short few pages

the site i am dreaming

and the fake qualifier

wait what is that

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

like magnets

i don't really want to be associated with that one for some reason

It Will Get Lighter

i really havent

send link

As we're stood there I notice a middle-aged woman staring at us across the room. I'm trying to catch her gaze, but its kind of vacant. I guess she sees me looking and considers it to be an invitation. She floats over to us in this strange dazed way, and on the approach I realise she's staring at (through?) my Korean colleague / fresh meat. She's saying wow, wow, wow. She seems genuinely so delighted, so shocked, so elated.

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

1

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.

lol yea

Rain, starting

I catch him on his way to the bar, telling him about this old racist failed actor that I'm avoiding. That I'm failing to confront. I get the sense he's avoiding people too. We get our drinks and find a corner. We chat for a bit. He's managing just fine.

you have a beautiful account btw


We gather around the start of a causeway down to the Thames. It's a pretty cold night and there's a breeze coming off the river. I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the dim silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank. They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.