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

Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

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

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

Picture

yes

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.

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 wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

no longer writing in the third person

1

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

much more tactility

magnetisation/form

its performative