"Put a blanket."
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
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.
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.
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
I am below everything.
no longer writing in the third person
"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."
all that is to say
god "possessing" artists "possessing" people
what do you mean
sorry i am texting like a slav
amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting
plato
ion
Can I see
is everyoneback on tumblr now