so at the end
I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?
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'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
thank you
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.
i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything
like magnets
okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models
and the fake qualifier
sorry i am texting like a slav
i dont understand magnetisation
we need to be deconstructing our identities
i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls
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.