The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.

"Put a blanket."

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

but really the thing should be autonomous

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

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

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

kind of mythopoesis

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

I am below everything.

in a post. I want to be remembered

Worse Lift

FOUNDING DOCUMENT

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

it is hopeful

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.