Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
something religious, a kind of complex,
it will get lighter
, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.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.
in a post. I want to be remembered
I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
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.
no longer writing in the third person
This is a website run by a narcissist who can't produce anything without the hope that it is seen and loved but can't act due to the fear of it being seen and hated. They immediately feel the need to ask Jack GPT to define whatever this feeling is in the hope that understanding it will mean control over it and control over it will mean that they can stop it.
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.