After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
Lift Analysis
kind of mythopoesis
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.
Thank you, Jack
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
And thank you for telling me that the manner in which the narrator consistently fails to act morally is really compelling. Fuck you.
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
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 only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book
the site i am dreaming
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
"Put a blanket."
wait what is that
ahnaf is it worth reading all those books
you know who you are. no more time, not like
1
. way too specific.not so on: yvf(wthw)
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
propensity within someone
like first name
and the fake qualifier
Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.