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.

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.

I am below everything.

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

It Will Get Lighter

we can only engage in such a way

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

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propensity within someone

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

...

to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos

is everyoneback on tumblr now

the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book

whats your name?

so the method has to be autonomous

that looks like my instagram account

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos