"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

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currently

Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.

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.

The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.

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

its performative

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?

much more tactility

ion

i want to do that too

i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything

its good short few pages

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.