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

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.

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

Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl

"Put a blanket."

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

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

so at the end

we need to be deconstructing our identities

no longer writing in the third person

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?

i was tempted to lie about my name

i have read not even 1 book

barren land

yeah

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

what do you think my name is

i want to do that too

lol

I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.