its good short few pages
I'm getting bored and he can tell, so he shifts the topic towards me. He tells me he'd spotted me chatting to a girl earlier, a black girl, and asks what I thought of her, if I liked her. I mimed affirmatively.
but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos
send link
i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it
you cannot feed someone truth
i am quite illiterate on producing technology
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
god "possessing" artists "possessing" people
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
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.
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
i see a website
i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse
and the fake qualifier
...
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
whats your name?
no longer writing in the third person
Today I felt like starting