I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.

ahnaf abrar

i did until you asked which kind of gave it away

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

FOUNDING DOCUMENT

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and so on. not wanting the rhyming / clanging

Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

its good

barren land

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.

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

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

Lift Analysis

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day. I created this site.

kind of mythopoesis

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46