god "possessing" artists "possessing" people

in a way what we are really interested in with pedagogy is the magnetisation

your feed looks like my tumblr

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

i was tempted to lie about my name

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

much more tactility

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

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.

Dreams like these are highly symbolic and emotionally intense. Here’s a breakdown of common interpretations:

and the fake qualifier

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.

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

"Put a blanket."

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