Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after
dusk
, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
no longer writing in the third person
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
god being the centre magnet
Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl
i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate
like first name
feel you
idk
Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.
i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things
is everyoneback on tumblr now
I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever
that looks like my instagram account