"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.

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

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

I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

"Put a blanket."

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

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.

i really havent

I Write Goodbye Letter

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.

Rain, starting

⚠️ Live Document Forever ⚠️

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

...

this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet

your feed looks like my tumblr

in a post. I want to be remembered

and the fake qualifier

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

plato

you know who you are. no more time, not like

1

ahnaf is it worth reading all those books

bro i read nothing in my life

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.