It Will Get Lighter

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day. I created this site.

"Put a blanket."

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

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.

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

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

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.

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

Thank you, Jack

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

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.

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

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

Better Lift

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever