isaac

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.

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08

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

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

Picture

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

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.

Better Lift

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

        13       |
                |
                |
            H   |
                |
                |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
                |

yeah

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

i really havent

what do you mean

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.

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