One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
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.
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
⚠️ Live Document Forever ⚠️
...
the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book
and the fake qualifier
way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it