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.
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
its performative
so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged
Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after
dusk
, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.we need to be deconstructing our identities
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
what do you mean
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.
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
...
It's
dusk
in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.send link
i want to do that too
your feed looks like my tumblr