"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after
dusk
, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.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 am below everything.
its performative
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
whats your name?
no longer writing in the third person
it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful
we can only engage in such a way
brb i will read and reply sincerely
you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak
or never left
okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate
lol yea
I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?
lol
but really the thing should be autonomous
is everyoneback on tumblr now
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.fw
Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?
the textwall is as much for me as it is for you
i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it
propensity within someone
i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything