Thank you, Jack
currently
I am below everything.
Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
it is hopeful
send link
i really havent
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
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 bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
...
Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.
we can only engage in such a way
i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then