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

but really the thing should be autonomous

Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41

It Will Get Lighter

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

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 

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that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24

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

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

a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.


i am quite illiterate on producing technology

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

i see a website

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

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

really i want the internet

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk

, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.

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

It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

Picture

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