with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

        13       |
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            H   |
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. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
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and the fake qualifier

feel you

whats your name?

sorry i am texting like a slav

ahnaf abrar

send your tumblr

ion

we need to be deconstructing our identities

have you read

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

is this you as well

13, H, grate

i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things

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 Will Get Lighter

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

Rain, starting

like magnets

i want to do that too

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

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

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

your feed looks like my tumblr

i really havent

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

what do you think my name is