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

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

i got bored though because i knew all of the different arrangements of it. i probably needed to stick at it longer to get it dense enough to feel navigable in a way that was engaging to me

I am below everything.

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

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

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

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

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

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

but really the thing should be autonomous

Can I see

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.

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

Better Lift