The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
...
Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.
wait what is that
no like which do people call me
its good
i love it here
way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it
and the fake qualifier
i dont understand magnetisation
the site i am dreaming
sorry i am texting like a slav
Dreams like these are highly symbolic and emotionally intense. Here’s a breakdown of common interpretations:
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
god being the centre magnet
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.
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.
which magnetises chains of pins
propensity within someone