There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

my watchlater reached its limit years ago and now i have to create a playlist for each new topic im interested in but it is incredibly hard to create the taxonomy of knowledge because everything seems to be everything else because at the end it is what you get from it that matters not what is given

not so on: yvf(wthw)

Slug

Lift Analysis

the site i am dreaming

and the fake qualifier

i really havent

you know who you are. no more time, not like

1

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

you cannot feed someone truth

...

abrar?

i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine

...

like magnets

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

magnetisation/form

its good

so at the end

isaac

wait what is that

Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.

i have read not even 1 book

its good short few pages

Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.

as in