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.

hiding from the rain

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day. I created this site.

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

brb i will read and reply sincerely


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

i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

i haven't read 100 book s so i'm probably not getting the depth of all of what you're saying

i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything

all that is to say

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

thank you

not their contents

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.

i dont understand magnetisation

autonomy of learning