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.

Rain, starting

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

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

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

IWGD

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

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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.

no longer writing in the third person

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

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?

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

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