2 (actually index). two is company

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

in a post. I want to be remembered

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

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.

Rain, starting

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

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.

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.

you have a beautiful account btw

okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate

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i dont understand magnetisation

your feed looks like my tumblr

think this is much more rhizomatic or immanent or mazelike than mainstream education now

idk

so an active mazelike process

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

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

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

Better Lift

so the method has to be autonomous

division of reality is straying away from it