as in

i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me

I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.

Rain, starting

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

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

you have a beautiful account btw

a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

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

i haven't read 100 book s so i'm probably not getting the depth of all of what you're saying

autonomy of learning

that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.

I am below everything.

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

so at the end

        13       |
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            H   |
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. . . .         |
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. . . .         |
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brb i will read and reply sincerely

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

no longer writing in the third person

it is hopeful

Picture