I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

i did until you asked which kind of gave it away

sorry i am texting like a slav

and the fake qualifier

thank you

like first name

i really havent

bro i read nothing in my life

god being the centre magnet

what do you mean

propensity within someone

i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things

i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything

division of reality is straying away from it

Today I felt like starting

⚠️ Live Document Forever ⚠️

its good

that looks like my instagram account

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.

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

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.

"Put a blanket."