a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful
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.
but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos
i am quite illiterate on producing technology
okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate
stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time
which magnetises chains of pins
autonomy of learning
is everyoneback on tumblr now
god "possessing" artists "possessing" people
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
its good
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
in a post. I want to be remembered
this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet
we need to be deconstructing our identities
not their contents