They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.

it is hopeful

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

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.

hiding from the rain

It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

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.

bro i read nothing in my life

whats your name?

isaac

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

lol

is everyoneback on tumblr now