lol
it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.
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.
something religious, a kind of complex,
it will get lighter
, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
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.
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
something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever
⚠️ Live Document Forever ⚠️
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class