no longer writing in the third person

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

We stand there laughing. The fireworks go off behind him.

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

all that is to say

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them

it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful

you cannot feed someone truth

Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?

division of reality is straying away from it

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.

to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

Lift Analysis