Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after
dusk
, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.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.
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
no i haven't really read anything
you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08
amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting
no longer writing in the third person
think this is much more rhizomatic or immanent or mazelike than mainstream education now
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
sorry i am texting like a slav
ion
there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.
i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things
so an active mazelike process
the textwall is as much for me as it is for you