so, i'm here at cafe artiste again. my only enjoyment is watching this guy at the next table use his horrible table ettiquete, eat his food. the enjoyment i long for, well, let's just say that everyone else is getting phone calls, but i, i sit here with my buddy at the next table.

i've been told i have asshole-ish potential. here, i've been thinking i only had insensetive potential. this entire time, i've been decieving myself. anyway, sometimes i really do wish i had that potential. people wouldn't have to worry about you. em-j wouldn't have worried about me breaking my neck when we used to handstand on the academic mall. she would egg me on, hoping that i would. i wouldn't feel displaced while sitting here, alone while everyone else is content with their day and their tochy-feely crap. the latter part of that sentence i throw at this couple by the book shelves where the guy is touching the girl on the small of her back and she gives him no attention what-so-ever. you can see that he wants her to turn towards him and give him a kiss, but alas, she looks more miserable thinking than i do. why is it that we see these people when we least need or want to? why care about emotion? why want to show it? i actually feel for the guy. he's trying his best to get attention from her, only to get rejected.

Ooops! looks like the guy just said something the girl didn't like.

the guy across from me, at the next table has moved on to his sandwich. before, it was only his chips, but now, hell, it's like a train wreck...you know you shouldn't look, but the bodies force you to look.

anyway, why am i here? i want to waste time, but i really don't want to waste time! i want to do stuff but don't want to do stuff. i really don't want to read. i don't want to research. i just want to walk with sand between my toes. i want aroz con leche.

atleast the music is happy.