you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak
that looks like my instagram account
sorry i am texting like a slav
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.
your feed looks like my tumblr
god "possessing" artists "possessing" people
yeah
send your tumblr
wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me
we can only engage in such a way
no i haven't really read anything
feel you
what do you think my name is
bro i read nothing in my life
no like which do people call me
isaac newton
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
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?
i was tempted to lie about my name
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.
abrar?
i dont understand magnetisation
we need to be deconstructing our identities