your feed looks like my tumblr

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.

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

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?

amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting

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

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

...

They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.

We gather around the start of a causeway down to the Thames. It's a pretty cold night and there's a breeze coming off the river.

Thank you, Jack

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

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

It Will Get Lighter