100110 18:32, January 10, 2011 (UTC)

Where are you going? Out. Buy me a two litre coke, I’ll give you my PIN. You shouldn’t do that. I know where you live. When do you expect me back? Fifteen minutes. I’ll be back in an hour

Walk by streets, gaze into windows. Regret nights ago, when sharp eyes passed unmet. Tonight, we meet

It’s hard to begin random talk, because one usually passes another going opposite to their direction

How’s it going?

Gone without answer. That’s the other normal greeting. I prefer have a good one. I wanted to shout it out to two men walking away from the lighthouse into the fog after I listened to their talk of duct tape canoes. I shouted it into the fog. Someone later said it to me while I exited an elevator

Sorry. You don’t have to be sorry

Gone without hearing

Walk. Watch across the empty street. Cars will not stop a jay’s flight. Far enough, the streets are empty. Turn back, sight across going opposite. Fly by intersection and look upon in walking parallel

Hello. Hello. Do I know you? No, I’m just out saying hello. Do you go to Sheridan? Yes. What program are you taking? Information Security. I have some discerning ideas on information that cause me trouble in conversing with people, but it’s for the better in the long run. I have trouble talking with people, they get set off by my eyes. That happens. And I don’t blink enough. Oh, where do you live? There. You’re going to have to walk back up this hill. I live down over there. Yes. I wouldn’t be carrying this coke, but my room mate who isn’t my room mate anymore asked me to get it. He gave me his PIN. He must trust you. Yeah, and he knows where I live. What program are you taking again? Information security. Bye

I usually keep these outings private. I didn’t tell my room mate when I went out to follow people downtown on my bike. Though I only followed them then, besides that guy who said hello. I said hello. There was a raccoon. There were raccoons when biking with my room mate down Kerr. I didn’t tell my room mate about going out to the lighthouse

I’m not ready to go home

He looks happy

Do you have a reason for being happy? Yes, I do actually, why do you ask? You looked happy, so I figured I’d ask if you were happy for a reason. I really look happy? Yes. I’m going to go see my girlfriend; I like the snow. I saw it from my window falling in clumps. It made me think of the snow they had in London. Hm, it is nice that we get to enjoy the offdraft. Bye

I like this intersection. He’s going to cross twice. I was right. I don’t know what he said, but I didn’t follow. I walked parallel to him, seperated by a gate. I wanted to shout good luck, but I didn’t. I stood in the foliage, staring at two coming towards me. They passed, the one behind making eye contact. When they were almost out, I called out for them to have a good one. They didn’t hear

The swing set of one swing. There’s foot tracks in the snow. Someone else comes out here, but I haven’t been vigilant since when I decided to swing out here hoping to meet someone else who will swing in the cold of night. I’d thought it was midnight that night, because the digital clock is broken and made me think it was one in the morning when it was seven in the evening. I’d watched a man watch his dog that night. I’d wondered why so many apartment lights were on at such a late hour. I left my apartment number in the snow by the swing. I wrote the four backwards, but fixed it

He was surprised I remembered his PIN. This despite earlier conversation of how I’m probably the one with the best memory, so I’m likely right in thinking I recall what brand the sour cherries were, which I claim are the same as the maraschino cherries which were worse than the most recent batch bought from some other nameless brand. That without knowing how many digits of pi I memorized. I talked to my room mate about how I can tell if I’m drunk by when spinning in my chair doesn’t give me a head ache, and of how I knew I was drunk when drinking for the first time after I only recalling 3.141592653589793238