Garden Post-Dusk, Birds Above, In Another Life

It Will Get Lighter

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.

Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17

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

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

Thu, 04 Dec 2025 11:31:03

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

"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."

a heavy, heavy rain. a clear day.

I created this site

Imprint, memory, impact, representation, impression

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

Rain, starting

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

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

Worse Lift

FOUNDING DOCUMENT

It's

dusk

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.

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

Better Lift

hiding from the rain

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03

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

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.

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

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

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.