the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book

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Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

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

yes

"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

13, H, grate

i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

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 at the end

okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.

kind of mythopoesis

It Will Get Lighter

i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it

i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me

but i respect your search

⚠️ Live Document Forever ⚠️

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.