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.

it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!

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

The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.

Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.

okay this is interesting because pedagogies we have rn are not proper models

bro i read nothing in my life

yeah

my watchlater reached its limit years ago and now i have to create a playlist for each new topic im interested in but it is incredibly hard to create the taxonomy of knowledge because everything seems to be everything else because at the end it is what you get from it that matters not what is given

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

feel you

i love it here

much more tactility

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

what do you think my name is

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

idk

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

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

its performative