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.
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 23:49:08
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
I am below everything.
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
it is hopeful
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
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.
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
in a post. I want to be remembered
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03
currently
something religious, a kind of complex,
it will get lighter
, something washing, cleansing, revealing, etc.i struggle with building a personal technical architecture for storing media, both curation and creation. instead i bookmark everything
no longer writing in the third person
not their contents
this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet
I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
okay im going very rogue and very inarticulate
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 hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls