Rain, starting

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08

I Write Goodbye Letter

wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me

i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

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.

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

in a post. I want to be remembered

hiding from the rain

Better Lift

It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

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.

Style

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

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

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

its good

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