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.

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

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

Picture

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Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24

is everyoneback on tumblr now

IWGD

as in

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.

in a post. I want to be remembered

i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate

Better Lift

1

we can only engage in such a way

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

Thank you, Jack

It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank.

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