hiding from the rain

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

my watchlater reached its limit years ago and now i have to create a playlist for each new topic im interested in but it is incredibly hard to create the taxonomy of knowledge because everything seems to be everything else because at the end it is what you get from it that matters not what is given

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

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

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

Better Lift

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

autonomy of learning

division of reality is straying away from it

you cannot feed someone truth

Picture

much more tactility

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.