It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

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

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything

lol

It Will Get Lighter

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

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

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching? 

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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.

so an active mazelike process

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

yes

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

Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?

in a way what we are really interested in with pedagogy is the magnetisation