no like which do people call me
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
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.
hiding from the rain
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.
Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03
I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?
Can I see
in a post. I want to be remembered
it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful
Better Lift
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged