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.Today I felt like starting
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
in a way what we are really interested in with pedagogy is the magnetisation
like first name
isaac
sorry i am texting like a slav
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.
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
propensity within someone
send your tumblr
i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate
Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?
not their contents