a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

.

and the fake qualifier

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

Worse Lift

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

no longer writing in the third person


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

I Write Goodbye Letter

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.

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.

no like which do people call me

yes

plato

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

i was tempted to lie about my name

Rain, starting

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.

have you read

isaac

what do you mean

and the fake qualifier

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

i want to do that too