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

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

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.

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.



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

Can I see

Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

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 religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

"Put a blanket."

Thank you, Jack

okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate

so an active mazelike process

in a way what we are really interested in with pedagogy is the magnetisation

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak


yes