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.

Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?

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

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.

"Put a blanket."

It's

dusk

Dreams like these are highly symbolic and emotionally intense. Here’s a breakdown of common interpretations:

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

He went in there with a camera to film it before he moved out of the building. He didn't think anyone would believe the story if he didn't have proof.

it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!

the site i am dreaming

Worse Lift

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

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

I am below everything.