They're fucking around with the box. I ask her what people do with fireworks for so long before they're ready to light. She doesn't know.
I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank.
wait what is that
i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate
Can I see
The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
...
i really havent
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
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
...
lol yea