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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.
something religious, a kind of complex,
it will get lighter
, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
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.
kind of mythopoesis
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.
Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41
so at the end
Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17
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.
so the method has to be autonomous
currently