so at the end

much more tactility

i love it here

is this you as well

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

i don't really want to be associated with that one for some reason

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

we need to be deconstructing our identities

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

lol

i really havent

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

the point of this was to try and avoid this narcissistic death spiral I'm in by acting anonymously and impulsively. how can that feeling that even Jack can't describe paralyse me if my name isn't next to any of this? the excitement of believing I just need a new process has overcome me and I have cummed out an empty webpage.

1

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

so an active mazelike process

hiding from the rain

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.

ahnaf abrar

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03

think this is much more rhizomatic or immanent or mazelike than mainstream education now

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
this will be about a slug
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

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.