not so on: yvf(wthw)
isaac
lol
i have read not even 1 book
it holds me to something (you, now). I love editing!
Thank you, Jack, for telling me I'm just as bad as the characters (actually they're people, if that means anything to you) that I'm writing about.
I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.
or never left
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
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.
whats your name?
your feed looks like my tumblr
We look out over the river to a block of luxury flats built on the site of some old docks. It would be nice to live right there. Yes. The conversation drifts to the pleasantness of warm lighting and whether anyone needs a smart home. I interrupt her to make a joke about the French Raj as he runs up the causeway. We stand there laughing. The fireworks go off behind him.
yeah
"I'm only attracted to you", he replies. "Like, you only."
...
fw
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?
Thu, 06 Nov 2025 23:18:46
god being the centre magnet
I am below everything.
Another Frenchman pushes through the crowd to join him. He's an events organiser who I'd met earlier, and he's holding a large box wrapped in a bin bag. They're the fireworks he'd smuggled in from France the night before. They're Industrial Grade, whatever that means for fireworks.
there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.
Sun, 23 Nov 2025 10:37:17