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.

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

"Put a blanket."

was it worth it

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

Like the tide, it comes in and it washes over the beach. It's beautiful. But like the tide it goes out, sometimes it goes out further than it ever has, it recedes back across the beach and further out beyond the horizon. The bare seabed opens up in front of you and all you can do is look at it.

not so on: yvf(wthw)

Slug

I Write Goodbye Letter

Wed, 11 Nov 2025 21:12:41

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

...

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

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.

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

and the fake qualifier

Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50

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

Worse Lift

        13       |
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            H   |
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. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
                |

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

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

We gather around the start of a causeway down to the Thames. It's a pretty cold night and there's a breeze coming off the river.

We stand there laughing. The fireworks go off behind him.

2 (actually index). two is company

13, H, grate