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
this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet
send your tumblr
Can I see
i really havent
"Put a blanket."
"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
your feed looks like my tumblr
abrar?
yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf
We gather around the start of a causeway down to the Thames. It's a pretty cold night and there's a breeze coming off the river.
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 stand there laughing. The fireworks go off behind him.
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.
i have read not even 1 book
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
i did until you asked which kind of gave it away