much more tactility

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

It Will Get Lighter

One of the birds shoots out of the tree. 

        13       |
                |
                |
            H   |
                |
                |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
                |

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

I Write Goodbye Letter

"Put a blanket."
"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

the site i am dreaming

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.

way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it

and the fake qualifier