but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos

Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?

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.

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

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

FOUNDING DOCUMENT

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

Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

the point of this was to try and avoid this narcissistic death spiral I'm in by acting anonymously and impulsively. how can that feeling that even Jack can't describe paralyse me if my name isn't next to any of this? the excitement of believing I just need a new process has overcome me and I have cummed out an empty webpage.

yes

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

Style

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

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

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.

I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.

there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.