a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

I am below everything.

It Will Get Lighter

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs 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.

Picture

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression


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.

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17