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

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

brb i will read and reply sincerely

"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

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.

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

currently

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

really i want the internet

it is hopeful

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.

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

much more tactility

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41

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.

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

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