i want to do that too

The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.

as in

there is a distinction between western-modern pedagogical systems that's like text-based as in a legal method but there is an idea of "pathshala" or "guru shissho"/ "porompora" i mean how masters relayed knowledge to the student by (oral) transmission often by memorising books. so what was taught was always interactive. knowledge was interactive, you spoke with people rather than read texts.

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

its good

propensity within someone

we can only engage in such a way

division of reality is straying away from it

is this you as well

yeah

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.

in a post. I want to be remembered

yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

is everyoneback on tumblr now

so at the end

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

This is a website run by a narcissist who can't produce anything without the hope that it is seen and loved but can't act due to the fear of it being seen and hated. They immediately feel the need to ask Jack GPT to define whatever this feeling is in the hope that understanding it will mean control over it and control over it will mean that they can stop it.

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.

and the fake qualifier

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.

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