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There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
there's probably something in that, but I don't feel like thinking about it too much yet.
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
I am below everything.
something for the future. something to look at when this is more. I've been thinking about... whatever
"Put a blanket."
in a post. I want to be remembered
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.
I know that if I try to make this entry any more than it is I will ruin it.
hiding from the rain
i love to walk around and see things and take photos and go online and look at websites and click on links and take screenshots i love to surf and i love to browse
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
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.
i hadn't considered this pedagogically or as a kind of personal knowledge management system (puke) at all but i suppose it is both of those things
we can only engage in such a way