you cannot feed someone truth
It's
dusk
in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.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.
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?
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
really i want the internet
it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!
a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it
hello reader,
brb i will read and reply sincerely
i have read not even 1 book
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
...
...
but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos
wait what is that
you have a beautiful account btw
yeah
i really havent
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.
not their contents
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.