bro i read nothing in my life

It Will Get Lighter

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.

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

Can I see

in a post. I want to be remembered

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

"Put a blanket."

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

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

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

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine

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.

which magnetises chains of pins

or never left

so the method has to be autonomous