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

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

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

and the fake qualifier

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

the site i am dreaming

...

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

I Write Goodbye Letter

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

wait what is that

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

2 (actually index). two is company

...