I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
plato
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
the point of this was to try and avoid this narcissistic death spiral I'm in by acting anonymously and impulsively. how can that feeling that even Jack can't describe paralyse me if my name isn't next to any of this? the excitement of believing I just need a new process has overcome me and I have cummed out an empty webpage.
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."
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.