yes

send link

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

Rain, starting

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.

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.

1

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

we need to be deconstructing our identities

your feed looks like my tumblr

okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate

you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak

no i haven't really read anything

Windrush Art Kid Oligarch

FOUNDING DOCUMENT

hiding from the rain

i love it here

autonomy of learning

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.

not their contents

yeah