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

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.

i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls

Style

I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.

It's dusk in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox. It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache. I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

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

The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.

not so on: yvf(wthw)

or never left

yeah

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.

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.

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.