log 3; observations
i feel a bit silly. i just feel Silly.
the man who was sitting in front of me at Second Cup just got up and moved. he had a lot of stuff out. a fancy looking leather binder, with a fancy, bland pen. an open messenger bag, and a laptop. he just moved to a spot almost identical. i have no idea why. maybe it was my fault. i'm not sure why it would be, but i mean, he just, noticed when i got here, and then left less than five minutes later. i'd like to think he has his habits, and thats it. as any person does. maybe he just doesn't like when people sit in front of him! respect. putting the little efforts in to...do things about your small preferences, i love that a lot. inspires me a lot. wait. i just looked over. it looks sort of like he's on a call. or speaking? he was speaking using his hands, though, and his laptop is open. whatever whatever. um. i just like it a lot. when people are people. and i like when people have the chance to notice these things, and i like when there's nothing to do with that. no one to tell, no acknowledgement, no particular purpose. when people do things for themselves, i like noticing. for me. sometimes, years later, i remember. for a while, i didn't enjoy being on the internet cuz of this. i didn't like seeing interesting people and being able to find them. i always would...i couldn't help it. i'd try talking to them. i love anonymity. it breaks my heart, it really does. it hurts so much. but i think things are just better that way. i think something should have to be very special, and have taken a lot of time and effort, to be a real thing.
that rant was...unrelated to anything i'm actually thinking about. just a distraction. a bit of hope! a bittt of hope. i feel much better already. i bought a muffin. it was 4 dollars and 60 something cents. it's not very good. it is very very oily. i also bought some redbull, for some reason. there's... another guy. he's sitting next to where the first guy is. so in front of/diagonal to me. i think he's studying. in front of him is a lot of papers, binded together, with colourful tabs coming out of the sides. there's some mail, and a book. his keys, phone, napkin, and redbull zero (or sugar free?) are sort of a mess to his right. he's wearing a watch with a chain looking band, and a dark blue (not navy, i wouldn't say,) polo (?). he looks maybe...um...i've always been bad with ages. maybe 35? he's mostly bald, with some facial hair. a bigger sort of guy. he's got a messenger bag too. his looks more useful, though. less to carry a laptop, more to carry books. he's wearing a ring. not a wedding ring. it's a silver band. i only saw him doing something once; he was reading, and twisting an elastic between his fingers. he's sitting like...how i might sit, if i were more comfortable: legs tucked under the chair, and very out there. OH SHIT! outside, outside a girl just walked by! i saw her earlier. she walks with so much purpose. she's wearing a magenta shawl of sorts. her hair is in a bun, and she's just as tall as me. she's listening to music. me and her waited at opposite ends of the road, for the light. OH the guy! he has a manilla folder to put his stacks of paper in. i'm...snooping. looks like bills. archives? is he doing archival work? studying for a case? law? ... so, evidence? that'd be great. photocopies. all marked. bank statements. i doubt he's doing his taxes or something, though. he's just reading it, and marking it up. and why would he need a redbull for that? i get the impression its just a lot to tackle. he's not writing a lot on them. he's flipping back and forth, leaving little marks, with a blue pen. he goes to make a single mark, but seems to forget something. he puts his pen in his mouth, the end, and reaches with his left, over himself, into his bag, to grab something. i didn't catch it. he keeps flipping back and forth, with one hand. it looks like he's maybe mouthing the words he's reading, or counting. he...looks back between two pages, like they're conflicting, and annoying as fuck.
i really wanna see what this guy does. if he "finishes" anything, or if he'll just leave. maybe he'll comically check his watch before heading out. i'm afraid its 2:08, and i asked to be picked up at 2:30. maybe that'll be enough. although, he did arrive after me, so...i'm not sure odds are on my side. he just wrote a few letters, or numbers, then circled it. the other guy is still there, up and moved. it looks like this guy, my law guy, is wearing a dog tag. his polo is undone, by the way.
there's some french people sitting to my right, also. 'french people' reads almost derogatory, there, sorrryyy. they're speaking fluent french. canadian...french. i assume.
i'm warm. my arms are, cuz they're in the sun. i miss being at my grandmothers house. i'd like to lay in a field. i'd like to lay on a walk way, like, concrete, or wooden slats, or whatever. i'd like to not think about the time, for a short while. even just thinking about "days" would do me good—that's what i've been sorta trying to do. trying to think about everything in the sort of "days". just today and tomorrow; whats next. my friend is going to get here soon. i'll probably have to talk to him. i sent him a message, that he read before he left to meet me, that said something about how i probably won't talk. that's almost worse. i just need to stop talking, in a natural way. he's very attuned to time. not like, as in, he's super great at telling it (maybe he is, i don't know, nothing comes to mind..) but he's always checking. always doing a thing i used to do, going "its (time)." unprompted, as a warning, to be considerate. to keep everyone up to date. i feel a bit rude. i don't remember what i usually say to him in that moment, but i figure i go "yup". that's what he does when i say the time. ah he's here. he got a drink.
okay, wait, i might've been wrong. he's got a calculator. taxes might be being done. i'm just not sure if it's his personal taxes or not. do you typically need a redbull to do your own taxes? why would you go OUT to do your own taxes?