I've found the girl, or she's found me, and we're smoking a cigarette while we watch the silhouettes of the French Raj and his fireworks bearer down on the bank.

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

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

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

"Put a blanket."

I am below everything.

"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"

no longer writing in the third person

Sun, 02 Nov 2025 21:54:03

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46

Today I felt like starting

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

...

that is unstable and lets me operate in that discovery mode that i can create within and also produce works from.