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.

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.

Picture

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

no longer writing in the third person

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

Rain, starting

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

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

it is hopeful

13, H, grate

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

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

autonomy of learning

in a way what we are really interested in with pedagogy is the magnetisation

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

"Put a blanket."

magnetisation/form

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

propensity within someone