Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03
something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever
Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17
13 |
|
|
H |
|
|
. . . . |
. . . . |
. . . . |
. . . . |
|
Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after
dusk
, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.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.
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?
no longer writing in the third person
Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?
Today I felt like starting
They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank.
We stand there laughing. The fireworks go off behind him.
Thank you, Jack
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.ahnaf is it worth reading all those books