they only ever have decaf americano, those bastards

hisies. (hi-zies). we are at the starbucks in southgate. i never venture over to different parts of this town. it is interesting like all new places. one of my new years resolutions was to try to explore a different side to this city that i loathe so much. so far i have tried a delicious greek restaurant, and now i am at a new starbucks. this branching out will take place very... very... slowly.

i have been writing steadily. i have nothing really interesting to share. i have been having the weirdest dreams recently. one of them consisted of someone cutting my chest open with a power saw in order to empty my heart of the sand packed around it.

frigid days in tallahassee. my hands are dry. it is so dry i keep shocking my boyfriend. things i think are changing. i can see the end of this program and it honestly feels good; working every free hour of every single day does not feel daunting, but exactly what i want to do.

just to be interesting: i love staring at people. this girl poring over her book kept looking up at me evilly as i passed and i smiled real big at her, and she smiled after she looked back down, a remnant of what was already a leftover smile. she reminded me of me.

starbuckses are all the same; they promote modernness, or would it be post post post all those things that we are. when i am here i feel that the starbucks sits inside of me, being itself, so i dont have to be myself. the brand has worked itself into a friend into an old accomplice that sort of waits and sits on your shoulder digging into your ear. when you come back it is like a long old slow tape playing yourself talking from years ago. of course it is also getting coffee in a hopelessly sterile environment feigning richness.

it is ... saturday.