I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?
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.
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
in a post. I want to be remembered
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.
currently
She closes the window. I wasn't paying attention anyway, I'm getting cold, and the birds are nowhere to be seen. I go inside.
ahnaf is it worth reading all those books
we need to be deconstructing our identities
feel you