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.
stalgivc is the greatest poster of all time
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.
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.
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."
so at the end
like first name
i see a website
i don't really want to be associated with that one for some reason
i haven't read 100 book s so i'm probably not getting the depth of all of what you're saying
i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike
The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.
i love it here
not their contents
I am below everything.
what do you think my name is
we can only engage in such a way
that looks like my instagram account
i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate
nope. i only remember the leaves bristling behind the window during chemistry class
ahnaf abrar
much more tactility
i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine
plato
so the method has to be autonomous
Mon, 03 Nov 2025 08:38:49
no like which do people call me