I am below everything.

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

that looks like my instagram account

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.

we need to be deconstructing our identities

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

which magnetises chains of pins

Better Lift

It Will Get Lighter

so at the end

plato

autonomy of learning

i did until you asked which kind of gave it away

god being the centre magnet

Thank you, Jack