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.
yes
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
that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.
but really the thing should be autonomous
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'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.
It's
dusk
in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.it is hopeful