I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank.

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

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.

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

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.

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

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything

whats your name?

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

was it worth it

in a way what we are really interested in with pedagogy is the magnetisation

amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting