we need to be deconstructing our identities

the textwall is as much for me as it is for you

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

so i or you can author smaller fragments that get arranged

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

something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever

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

Above and in front two birds are darting in and out of a tree. Sometimes they collide to fight or maybe mate, but I can't really make it out in the low light. It's just after

dusk

Can I see

I wonder if the birds knew I was watching?

Thu, 06 Nov 2025 21:22:59

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.

brb i will read and reply sincerely

i see a website though something that reconfigures or is mazelike

Style

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.

It Will Get Lighter

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting

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.