There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
you cannot feed someone truth
kind of mythopoesis
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
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.
not their contents
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
the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book