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.
but really the thing should be autonomous
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
i am quite illiterate on producing technology
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
really i want the internet
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
i am quite confused, not quite getting the idea of it
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 am below everything.
a lot of what i've been doing has been some imaginary screenshot or recording of his website, something that could be found within it
Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.
i see a website
December 2025
"Put a blanket."
not so on: yvf(wthw)