.png)
Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50
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.
Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
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 know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?
"Put a blanket."
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
Today I felt like starting
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
wow, you are the first stranger to write a textwall to me
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
Lift Analysis
...