somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
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.
is this you as well
i love it here
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.
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
god being the centre magnet
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
magnetises a pin
what do you mean
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 the birds knew I was watching?
Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?
we need to be deconstructing our identities
which magnetises chains of pins
I am below everything.
Thank you, Jack
your feed looks like my tumblr
ahnaf is it worth reading all those books
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."