Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever
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.
the point of this was to try and avoid this narcissistic death spiral I'm in by acting anonymously and impulsively. how can that feeling that even Jack can't describe paralyse me if my name isn't next to any of this? the excitement of believing I just need a new process has overcome me and I have cummed out an empty webpage.
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
currently
wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me