it is hopeful

        13       |
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            H   |
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. . . .         |
. . . .         |
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lol yea

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

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.

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

It Will Get Lighter

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.

13, H, grate

Rain, starting

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.

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

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

we can only engage in such a way

propensity within someone

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

but i respect your search

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt