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.

i don't really want to be associated with that one for some reason

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

as in

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

was it worth it

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

not their contents

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

i want to do that too

I am below everything.

all that is to say

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

i dont understand magnetisation

and the fake qualifier

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

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.

i love it here