...

I am below everything.

13, H, grate

It's

dusk

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

Better Lift

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.

no longer writing in the third person

i see a website

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

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.

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

        13       |
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            H   |
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. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
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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

a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

currently

magnetises a pin

feel you

i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine