S
Woke up.
10:30. In the morning.
Go back to sleep.
No really asleep, just resting my head on the comforter.
Twirling my hair with an index finger.
Face down. Can’t see.
Can hear arguments and resolutions
both around my immediate presence
And in the past.
Wake up.
Fuck, I’m tired.
Drive 8.9 miles to Costco.
Get my eyes tested for glasses.
Talk about my struggles with the local community college’s registration process with my optician.
Try to sound like I’m not tired.
Feign interest in the optician’s earlier university struggles.
Talks about how it took her three years to get through UC Irvine, in addition to three years in a junior college.
Can listen, but can’t sympathise.
Make a face which exhibits empathy, followed by a remark about how it must suck.
Wonder if I should be taking MAOIs.
Attend English 102 class, which I haven’t gotten into officially yet.
Get grouped with people.
One girl has a massive cleavage, which is surely intentional since she’s been pushing her chest up as much as she’s been fondling her hair.
Must like the attention.
Give her breasts momentary lapses of attention.
Speak about Freud in relation to a short story called ‘My Oedipus Complex’.
Boy loves Mum.
Capitalises M in Mum.
Must either deify her, or the author is fucking with me.
Finish class.
Talk to unofficial classmate for a minute about my fear of kids.
She used to be a single mother.
She seems nice.
Leave the campus.
Go to salon for haircut thereafter.
Greet an unfamiliar cashier, followed by a stylist who I haven’t seen in a year.
Name is Kelly.
Part German, likes lingering by rivers during the Californian summer.
Has wonderful hair. Wonderful, frizz-less, blonde German hair.
I wish I had that sort of hair.
Finish cut after an hour.
Satisfied.
Look like Lionel Messi.
Satisfied some more.
Talk to different cashier.
Same as the one from the last time.
Talk about Poketo wallets and joke about their finite quality.
Laugh.
Recommends a new sort.
Same wallet he showed me the last time.
Writes ‘Comme de Garcons Wallets’ on my receipt.
Get home.
Search ‘comme de garcons wallet’ on Google.
$150 - $400.
Fuck.
E-mail sister.
Lives in New York.
There might be cheaper ones there.
I don’t know why or how.
Leave for Physical Science class.
New hair surprises some peers.
Keep staring at me even though I can clearly see them.
Playing Elliot Smith’s ‘Say Yes’.
Remember person I used to love.
Sulk and look into the blankness of a wall.
Talk about Newton’s Three Laws.
‘An object… something, something, something.’
F = m * a
Listening to Erik Satie’s ‘Gymnopedie No. 1’
Calm.
Every action has an equal and opposing reaction.
How do you get acceleration?
a = f/m
Get paired with Michael Caruso for lab experiment.
‘Komm, Süsser Tod’, from Evangelion playing.
Do experiment based on creating hypotheses.
Fucking boring.
Get A+.
Have a second experiment based on Paper Chromatography.
‘An Opera Singer has been killed.’
The Rf (rates of flow) of blood on her blouse are 1.0 and .86
Rf = solute front/solvent front
Her friend, Julius, has his blood sample tested by me.
Rf of .84
All the other suspects have Rfs between .03 and .64
Julius is guilty as fuck.
She trusted you, Julius.
Julius doesn’t even look/sound like a name anymore.
Sounds like a juice company.
Finish work.
A+, for sure.
Otherwise, I would have stayed there beyond 20:30 for no reason.
Family has already eaten.
Eat leftover chicken and pizza.
Have pizza with leftover ranch dip.
Launch DungeonDefenders.exe
Quit after 30 minutes.
Tired of game mechanics.
Get e-mail from sister about my preferences for the Comme de Garcons wallet.
Reply with, ‘3-side zippered, closest to square!’ as my preference.
Launch TeamFortress2.exe
Donator status at a server called Ponyville.
Fun.
Get sick of it by 3rd game.
3rd best.
Good enough.
‘When We First Met’ by Hellogoodbye playing.
Eyes heavy.
Open can of Oktoberfest Heffeweizen.
.8L
That’s a large can.
Pour into Das Boot.
Relaunch TeamFortress2.exe
Play Maduk’s latest SC2 track.
On loop.
Play Team Fortress for two hours.
Second best.
Good enough.
Finish heffeweizen.
Smoke a quarter of a cigarette.
Throw in sewer.
Lungs hurt.
Heart racing.
Get in bathroom.
Sit on toilet.
Nothing comes out.
Here right now.
Staring at screen, thinking of what to type.
Typing this.
3:22
I just want to share myself with someone.
