Better Lift

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

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

I am below everything.

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.

Rain, starting

i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

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.

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

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

magnetisation/form

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

in a way what we are really interested in with pedagogy is the magnetisation

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

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

i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate

13, H, grate

you have a beautiful account btw