6.13.01 - 3:41

my, my. it's so cold in here. no, like, so cold. what's the deal.

there are a lot of caltrain fatalities. these are largely suicides. i saw a body with a yellow sheet over it at menlo park today and got to work two hours late. i suppose if you're looking for an effective suicide method, walking in front of a speeding train would certainly be one of them.

people here are jovial for the most part. i want to tell them sometimes, stop being so jovial, i am so cold i can't feel my feet. and then i got up to get some water and almost tripped over my left foot, the one i couldn't feel. i watched it twisting on the floor and it wasn't part of me. my fingers are cold now, too.

ok, seriously, though. after two or three fortuitous things happen and you find your way back to your seat with your book it's just inevitable that the next thing to happen will not be good. because it can't.

oh, my fingers.

there is a sound like the little squeak in crystal method's 'busy child' (among others) in the ceiling right now. i think it may have something to do with the people in the ceiling. people in the ceiling are creepy, like large rats above your desk.

sitting on feet you have to wonder if your feet are getting warmer and you can't know if your pants are going to be covered with blood from the blisters when you unfold yourself, also you can't tell that your feet will be awake, even though they may be warm.

i doubt this is the stuff that dreams are made of.

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