so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged
currently
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.
Thank you for telling me that I'm failing to see how I'm reproducing the dynamics I'm trying to critique by only describing my Korean colleague / fresh meat and the black girl in relation to others and myself.
And thank you for telling me that the manner in which the narrator consistently fails to act morally is really compelling. Fuck you.
But seriously, thank you, Jack
the site i am dreaming
Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.
something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever
it is hopeful
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
They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.