It's

dusk

i am quite illiterate on producing technology

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

as in

so at the end

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

i believe search always should be immersive, because whatever is pre planned and non consuming (what you are looking for is total engulfment by the spectre of the real), a joyous intensity, a flow of virtue

all that is to say

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.

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

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

but i respect your search

propensity within someone

Better Lift

Style

the point of this was to try and avoid this narcissistic death spiral I'm in by acting anonymously and impulsively. how can that feeling that even Jack can't describe paralyse me if my name isn't next to any of this? the excitement of believing I just need a new process has overcome me and I have cummed out an empty webpage.

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

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

no longer writing in the third person

okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate

much more tactility

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

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

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

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.

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

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