Tue, 02 Dec 2025 11:29:50
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.
"Put a blanket."
I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.
something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever
Better Lift
this is possible in mazelike research sprints on the internet
yes
send your tumblr
that looks like my instagram account
i know a little bit of lacan which probably influences me in a way i cant articulate
i hope ai fixes this with the cessation of interfaces and walls
i guess imagine a multimedia obsidian or notion that behaves according to some insane arcane rules that you can't ever really determine
so an active mazelike process
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.
no longer writing in the third person
amazing hopefully this was all legible and frankly i might be going very off board but you seemed interesting
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
you cannot feed someone language, they have to speak
its performative