but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

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.

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

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

I am below everything.

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.

hiding from the rain

IWGD

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

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

It Will Get Lighter

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13

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

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?

yes

        13       |
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            H   |
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Sun, 02 Nov 2025 22:11:24

kind of mythopoesis

i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me

13, H, grate

Can I see

Picture