really i want the internet
but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos
Today I felt like starting
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
hiding from the rain
a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it
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
"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
Better Lift
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.
i did until you asked which kind of gave it away
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
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.
so an active mazelike process
magnetisation/form
isaac
no like which do people call me