but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
I am below everything.
Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50
Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl
Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08
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.
we want to live the knowledge too live the content
so the method has to be autonomous
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.