Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after
dusk
, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out."No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
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.
send your tumblr
i haven't read 100 book s so i'm probably not getting the depth of all of what you're saying
mazelike/rhizomatic/immanent/emergent are not antithetical to a transcendent real but its very manifestation
or never left
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
not their contents
no like which do people call me
we want to live the knowledge too live the content
plato
there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.