I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.

Better Lift

Today I felt like starting

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

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

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

autonomy of learning

thank you

we can only engage in such a way

whats your name?

Style

propensity within someone

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.

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.

no i haven't really read anything

okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate