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.
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
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.
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03
Better Lift
Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl
its performative
okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
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 wonder if the birds knew I was watching?
i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls
so at the end
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24
I am below everything.
that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.
i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike
really i want the internet
brb i will read and reply sincerely
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
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"