so at the end

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

no longer writing in the third person

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

Better Lift

I am below everything.

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

currently

kind of mythopoesis

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

brb i will read and reply sincerely

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 in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk

lol