Style

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

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

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."
"No, it'll get cold!" "Put a tut ahh put a-"

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.

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

Picture

It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

1

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

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


Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49

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.

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.


with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

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

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03

"Put a blanket."

13, H, grate

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

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.

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

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