I Write Goodbye Letter

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

no longer writing in the third person

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.

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

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.

isaac newton

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

not their contents

idk

okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models