I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.

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

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.

in a post. I want to be remembered

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

        13       |
                |
                |
            H   |
                |
                |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
                |

Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03

its good short few pages

lol

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

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

think this is much more rhizomatic or immanent or mazelike than mainstream education now

that looks like my instagram account

so at the end

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

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

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

idk

I am below everything.

Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

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

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