Better Lift

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

you cannot feed someone truth

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

not their contents

to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

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

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.


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

I am below everything.

idk

The only real Londoner remaining is old, bitter, kept around for entertainment, defined by tropes from 30+ years ago. They play gangsters in films, or they work in a pie and mash shop, or they go on Business Insider's YouTube channel to tell you about their crimes. And they somehow still find the time to spend all day hanging about cafes and pubs for you to bump into, to remind you of Real London.

She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.



the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book

13, H, grate

Thank you for telling me that I'm failing to see how I'm reproducing the dynamics I'm trying to critique by only describing my Korean colleague / fresh meat and the black girl in relation to others and myself.

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