There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
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 really havent
Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41
I am below everything.
not so on: yvf(wthw)
wait what is that
way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it
"Put a blanket."
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
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
The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
in a way what we are really interested in with pedagogy is the magnetisation
this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet