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.
really i want the internet
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
Their voices are saying they haven't and shouldn't fuck but want to so bad, or have fucked and can't again but want to so bad, or something like that. Would this be easier if they were birds? Incel kind of question... I'm not following the conversation, but I'm still listening. He's talking in this slightly begging way. It's a way of talking that asks for pity, like he's already tried appealing to every other one of her sensibilities. Incel kind of observation... Maybe he just talks like that, in some upspeak derivative. Haha unless?
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
One of the birds shoots out of the tree.
hiding from the rain
Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03
we need to be deconstructing our identities
Thank you, Jack
like first name
is this you as well
Can I see
It's
dusk
in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.December 2025
...
stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time