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

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

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

"Put a blanket."

I am below everything.

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

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

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.

currently

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

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

Better Lift

IWGD

it is hopeful

It Will Get Lighter

This is a website run by a narcissist who can't produce anything without the hope that it is seen and loved but can't act due to the fear of it being seen and hated. They immediately feel the need to ask Jack GPT to define whatever this feeling is in the hope that understanding it will mean control over it and control over it will mean that they can stop it.

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

i haven't read 100 book s so i'm probably not getting the depth of all of what you're saying

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

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

It's

dusk

Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:27:13

all that is to say

its good short few pages

much more tactility