The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
I am below everything.
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
"Put a blanket."
I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
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
, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.Today I felt like starting
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.
i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse
hiding from the rain
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
i see a website
Actual born-Londoners aren't LARPing like this, they sold their shite family home for a million pounds and moved to Malaga years ago. They have their culture and they've taken it elsewhere.