I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.
we can only engage in such a way
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.
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 bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
I am below everything.
i dont understand magnetisation
and the fake qualifier
in a way what we are really interested in with pedagogy is the magnetisation
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
i love it here
plato
what do you think my name is
its good short few pages
a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.
I created this site
.stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time
there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.
i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then
hiding from the rain
ahnaf is it worth reading all those books