Thank you, Jack

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

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.

Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

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

yes

the point of this was to try and avoid this narcissistic death spiral I'm in by acting anonymously and impulsively. how can that feeling that even Jack can't describe paralyse me if my name isn't next to any of this? the excitement of believing I just need a new process has overcome me and I have cummed out an empty webpage.

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

Can I see

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

Better Lift

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

its good

amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting

isaac