sorry i am texting like a slav

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

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13

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

Style

no longer writing in the third person

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

hiding from the rain

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

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

"Put a blanket."
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

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.

Today I felt like starting

it is hopeful

I am below everything.


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.

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

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

i see a website

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03

brb i will read and reply sincerely