One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

no longer writing in the third person

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.

isaac newton

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

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

nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class

which magnetises chains of pins

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

like magnets

you cannot feed someone truth

isaac

i really havent

I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.

way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it

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

like first name

and the fake qualifier