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

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

it is hopeful

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

idk

whats your name?

really i want the internet

Rain, starting

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

much more tactility

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

what do you think my name is

and the fake qualifier

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

plato

its good