Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.
"Put a blanket."
Better Lift
I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
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lol
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything
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.
plato
autonomy of learning
we want to live the knowledge too live the content