We look out over the river to a block of luxury flats built on the site of some old docks. It would be nice to live right there. Yes. The conversation drifts to the pleasantness of warm lighting and whether anyone needs a smart home. I interrupt her to make a joke about the French Raj as he runs up the causeway. We stand there laughing. The fireworks go off behind him.
and the fake qualifier
barren land
thank you
god being the centre magnet
yeah
much more tactility
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
have you read
okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate
Can I see
what do you mean
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
we need to be deconstructing our identities
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
wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me
so an active mazelike process
yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf
i haven't read 100 book s so i'm probably not getting the depth of all of what you're saying
this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet
Thank you, Jack
The old failed actor genuinely believed this girl was of a lesser race. He believed she shouldn't be talking with me, shouldn't be here at this party, shouldn't be here in this country. He wanted a white England. I didn't really challenge him on it. Sometimes I justify it with thoughts like I was drunk, or baffled, or it isn't an argument I'll win, or he can't hear me anyway, or whatever. I didn't argue with him. I just cut off his rant and left with a pathetic "In a bit."