currently

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.

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

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.

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

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

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what do you mean

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

all that is to say

your feed looks like my tumblr

division of reality is straying away from it

stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time

idk

in a post. I want to be remembered

i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls

Better Lift

send your tumblr

Thank you, Jack

so the method has to be autonomous

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

my watchlater reached its limit years ago and now i have to create a playlist for each new topic im interested in but it is incredibly hard to create the taxonomy of knowledge because everything seems to be everything else because at the end it is what you get from it that matters not what is given

yeah

or never left

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

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