Rain, starting

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.

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

"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

Today I felt like starting

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.

it is hopeful

It's

dusk

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.

the point of this was to try and avoid this narcissistic death spiral I'm in by acting anonymously and impulsively. how can that feeling that even Jack can't describe paralyse me if my name isn't next to any of this? the excitement of believing I just need a new process has overcome me and I have cummed out an empty webpage.

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

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

Better Lift

13, H, grate

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

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

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

abrar?

yeah

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

like first name

feel you

and the fake qualifier

ahnaf abrar

Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk

I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank.

Maybe, Jack, I'm doing this because I'm English?

was it worth it

no like which do people call me