I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.
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.
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.
Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50
in a post. I want to be remembered
your feed looks like my tumblr
lol
i dont understand magnetisation
and the fake qualifier
Better Lift
we can only engage in such a way
It's
dusk
in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse
yeah
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
"Put a blanket."
ion
we want to live the knowledge too live the content
not their contents