The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
not so on: yvf(wthw)
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Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.
it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!
the site i am dreaming
Dreams like these are highly symbolic and emotionally intense. Here’s a breakdown of common interpretations:
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.
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
"Put a blanket."
in a post. I want to be remembered
a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it
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We gather around the start of a causeway down to the Thames. It's a pretty cold night and there's a breeze coming off the river.
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
We stand there laughing. The fireworks go off behind him.