your feed looks like my tumblr
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
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.
it is hopeful
something religious, a kind of complex,
it will get lighter
, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.really i want the internet
i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike
I am below everything.
you have a beautiful account btw
i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
no longer writing in the third person
the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book
barren land
we want to live the knowledge too live the content