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

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.

It's

dusk

really i want the internet

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

i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it

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

i am quite illiterate on producing technology

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

Thank you, Jack

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

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

It Will Get Lighter

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03

you have a beautiful account btw

"Put a blanket."

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.

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

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.