"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

i believe search always should be immersive, because whatever is pre planned and non consuming (what you are looking for is total engulfment by the spectre of the real), a joyous intensity, a flow of virtue

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.

Can I see

really i want the internet

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

but i respect your search

in a post. I want to be remembered

Rain, starting

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

no longer writing in the third person

i am quite illiterate on producing technology

it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful

"Put a blanket."

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

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

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

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