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

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them

They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.

idk

propensity within someone

and the fake qualifier

its good

i really havent

Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

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

December 2025

no i haven't really read anything

we can only engage in such a way

is everyoneback on tumblr now

no like which do people call me

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

was it worth it

part of an old note. It will get lighter.

bro i read nothing in my life

...

that looks like my instagram account

which magnetises chains of pins

i did until you asked which kind of gave it away

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

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.

Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.


Better Lift

I Write Goodbye Letter


i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then

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

Style