so an active mazelike process

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.

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.

i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then

way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it

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

and the fake qualifier

i am quite illiterate on producing technology

wait what is that

yes

really i want the internet

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

i really havent

brb i will read and reply sincerely

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

it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful

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

lol

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