Rain, starting

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

        13       |
                |
                |
            H   |
                |
                |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
                |

13, H, grate

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

and the fake qualifier

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

not so on: yvf(wthw)

Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?

It Will Get Lighter

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

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

confused - is it the tide or its absense? I still like where I was going with it. anyway, real reader know this site is the note.
and so on. not wanting the rhyming / clanging

i see a website

...

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

, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

you know who you are. no more time, not like

1

. way too specific.

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

...

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.

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.

the site i am dreaming