She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.
After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting
yes
magnetises a pin
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46
Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03
really i want the internet
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
i am quite illiterate on producing technology
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.
to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos
not their contents
this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet
Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03
amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting
propensity within someone
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
like magnets