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 exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever but the thinking is useful
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.no longer writing in the third person
Today I felt like starting
there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.
but i respect your search
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
really i want the internet
like first name
god "possessing" artists "possessing" people
yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf
I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
there is a distinction between western-modern pedagogical systems that's like text-based as in a legal method but there is an idea of "pathshala" or "guru shissho"/ "porompora" i mean how masters relayed knowledge to the student by (oral) transmission often by memorising books. so what was taught was always interactive. knowledge was interactive, you spoke with people rather than read texts.
plato