We look out over the river to a block of luxury flats built on the site of some old docks. It would be nice to live right there. Yes.
or never left
i understand
The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
wait what is that
we can only engage in such a way
⚠️ Live Document Forever ⚠️
i really havent
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them
it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!
yeah
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
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.
amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting
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.
idk
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
so the method has to be autonomous
lol yea
the textwall is as much for me as it is for you
this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet