December 2025

no longer writing in the third person

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

barren land

we need to be deconstructing our identities

i don't really want to be associated with that one for some reason

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.

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

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

what do you think my name is

is this you as well

isaac

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

Rain, starting

I Write Goodbye Letter

Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

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

was it worth it

your feed looks like my tumblr

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41