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

Picture

hiding from the rain

Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.


Better Lift


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.

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

Can I see


Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

Better Lift

He went in there with a camera to film it before he moved out of the building. He didn't think anyone would believe the story if he didn't have proof.

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

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

or never left

It Will Get Lighter

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

your feed looks like my tumblr

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

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.

The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.

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.


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

this will be about a slug