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.

what do you think my name is

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

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

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

i have read not even 1 book

propensity within someone

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

magnetises a pin

i understand

i really havent

not their contents

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

we can only engage in such a way

yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf

is this you as well

abrar?

send your tumblr

its performative

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.

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.

or never left

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