Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

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.

I am below everything.

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

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.

It Will Get Lighter

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

Rain, starting

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

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

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

much more tactility

barren land

you cannot feed someone truth

so the method has to be autonomous

so an active mazelike process

as in

so at the end

magnetisation/form

propensity within someone

we want to live the knowledge too live the content

i really havent

isaac newton

its good

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

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