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 understand
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
isaac
i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything
i did until you asked which kind of gave it away
i have read not even 1 book
like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them
which magnetises chains of pins
what do you think my name is
all that is to say
thank you
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
okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate
feel you
god "possessing" artists "possessing" people
and the fake qualifier
i dont understand magnetisation
like magnets
yeah people dont get it they assume its ahnaf
much more tactility
your feed looks like my tumblr
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?
in a post. I want to be remembered
like first name
what do you mean
abrar?
send your tumblr