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.
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
"Put a blanket."
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.
Dreams like these are highly symbolic and emotionally intense. Here’s a breakdown of common interpretations:
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nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
wait what is that
I am below everything.
whats your name?
my watchlater reached its limit years ago and now i have to create a playlist for each new topic im interested in but it is incredibly hard to create the taxonomy of knowledge because everything seems to be everything else because at the end it is what you get from it that matters not what is given
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