They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
kind of mythopoesis
Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after
dusk
, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.no longer writing in the third person
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.
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.I am below everything.
something religious, a kind of complex,
it will get lighter
, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.lol
Better Lift
so an active mazelike process
okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate
i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls
so the method has to be autonomous
i haven't read 100 book s so i'm probably not getting the depth of all of what you're saying