i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then

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.

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.

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

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

Rain, starting

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

I am below everything.

i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it

IWGD

i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things

fw

i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine

we can only engage in such a way

so at the end

no longer writing in the third person

i dont understand magnetisation