to work in time to get to the timeless, perfection thru chaos

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

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

I am below everything.

Rain, starting

Lift Analysis

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things

i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything

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

we can only engage in such a way

all that is to say

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.

you know who you are. no more time, not like

1

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?

was it worth it

I Write Goodbye Letter

Thank you, Jack

...

the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book