isaac


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

i love it here

magnetisation basically means the induction of divine form unto you

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

its performative

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i understand

so at the end

magnetises a pin

god "possessing" artists "possessing" people

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

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

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.

thank you

amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting

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

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

i dont understand magnetisation


its good

i want to do that too

we need to be deconstructing our identities

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.

not so on: yvf(wthw)

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


plato

that looks like my instagram account

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

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.