I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

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

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

your feed looks like my tumblr

I am below everything.

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.

yes

Better Lift

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.

division of reality is straying away from it

so the method has to be autonomous

to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos

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

mazelike/rhizomatic/immanent/emergent are not antithetical to a transcendent real but its very manifestation

Better Lift

i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls

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