Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

sorry i am texting like a slav

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

Picture

no longer writing in the third person

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

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

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

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

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

hiding from the rain

brb i will read and reply sincerely

"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

Better Lift

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

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

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.