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

Rain, starting

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.

somewhere between instagram and chatgpt

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

brb i will read and reply sincerely

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

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

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.

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

i believe search always should be immersive, because whatever is pre planned and non consuming (what you are looking for is total engulfment by the spectre of the real), a joyous intensity, a flow of virtue

something religious, a kind of complex,

it will get lighter

, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.

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

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.