no longer writing in the third person
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really i want the internet
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
was it worth it
the site i am dreaming
i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then
I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?
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.
...
it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!
autonomy of learning
magnetisation/form
way too random but already engaging. i want to explore it
i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate
plato
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.
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.