13       |
                |
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            H   |
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. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
. . . .         |
                |

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

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

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

, I have nothing to do, I'm watching them, trying to figure it out.

i sat down to eat my peasant dinner but i thought it was a song you sent so i didn’t watch it then

As we're stood there I notice a middle-aged woman staring at us across the room. I'm trying to catch her gaze, but its kind of vacant. I guess she sees me looking and considers it to be an invitation. She floats over to us in this strange dazed way, and on the approach I realise she's staring at (through?) my Korean colleague / fresh meat. She's saying wow, wow, wow. She seems genuinely so delighted, so shocked, so elated.

have you read

its good

bro i read nothing in my life

what do you mean

It Will Get Lighter

whats your name?

so magnetisation means the divine spirit acting thru u endowing you with its qualities

Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder where it goes in the day.



the only things i have read are just excerpts and 1 dialogue by plato fully and mcluhan's medium is the massage but it cannot be considered a book

yeah

like first name

ahnaf abrar

and so on. not wanting the rhyming / clanging

Dreams like these are highly symbolic and emotionally intense. Here’s a breakdown of common interpretations:

which magnetises chains of pins

It Will Get Lighter

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

i don't really want to be associated with that one for some reason

isaac

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

sorry i am texting like a slav

wait what is that

god "possessing" artists "possessing" people

plato

I imagine that some lab-grown 29-year-old from Woking with a mind honed to identify individuals who fit the profile of Real Londoner (as conceived of by 50 opinion-polled racist builders and their wives in the Midlands) picks a stubborn local who can still somehow afford to live here and passes him along to some creative studio.

Rain, starting

no like which do people call me

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