idk

I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank.

i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine

i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything

so an active mazelike process

magnetisation/form

yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf

you know who you are. no more time, not like

1

. way too specific.

that looks like my instagram account

It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

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.

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

...

part of an old note. It will get lighter.

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

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

confused - is it the tide or its absense? I still like where I was going with it. anyway, real reader know this site is the note.

its good short few pages

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