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Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

in a post. I want to be remembered

It Will Get Lighter

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

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

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

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

13, H, grate

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.

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

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50