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

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

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

Lift Analysis

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.

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.

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

Worse Lift

Better Lift

but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

Thank you, Jack

kind of mythopoesis

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

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

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

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Style