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.

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

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.

it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

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

"Put a blanket."

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

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 see a website

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.

brb i will read and reply sincerely

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

ion

so at the end

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

but really the thing should be autonomous

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

Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.


was it worth it

i haven't read 100 book s so i'm probably not getting the depth of all of what you're saying

2 (actually index). two is company

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