okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate
Thank you, Jack
The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
...
you know who you are. no more time, not like
1
. way too specific.the site i am dreaming
the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book
bro i read nothing in my life
it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!
was it worth it
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 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 closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
fw