I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank.

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.

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

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

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

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

Worse Lift

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-" 
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I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

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

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.

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