"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
but i respect your search
with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
no longer writing in the third person
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 know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl
i am quite illiterate on producing technology
Can I see
in a post. I want to be remembered
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful
currently
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"