The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
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.
somewhere between instagram and chatgpt
"Put a blanket."
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 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.
brb i will read and reply sincerely
"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."
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
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever
a version of this existed for a few months last year but it was static. it was HTML with writing and pictures and videos and sounds. i had this feeling that the code should be as important as the content, that structurally each piece in relation to each other piece shouldn't change, that the mazelike quality should emerge from me intricately arranging paths through it. like classic hypertext
...