kind of mythopoesis
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.
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.send link
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged
Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17
so the method has to be autonomous
ahnaf abrar
I am below everything.
god being the centre magnet
i really havent
ahnaf is it worth reading all those books
that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it
propensity within someone
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.
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.