I just took the best fucking walk. It was great. This is probably the kind of thing that belongs on a personal page but since mine is still under construction, I'll post it here. I don't care if anyone else finds this interesting or entertaining. I don't even care that this whole account is poorly written.

I woke up at three. I watched an economics lecture and went to sleep again until six. I showered at seven. The entire day had passed me by without a second thought. When I'm a tired, sad old man on the verge of death I'm going to wish I could have that day back. But here I am, spoiled and sleeping away entire portions of my life. I was bored and frustrated and fucking angry that I wasted the whole day. I couldn't even muster the desire to read or study, I just sat on my computer or burned my brain watching 'the History of Def Jam' on musictelevision. Everyone I knew was at the stupid football game. After the game, plans were made. I was excluded from them. I felt like vomiting on everyone who had forgotten me again. That can't be normal.

Around eleven I decided I needed to get out of my room. It didn't matter where I went, as long as it was somewhere else. The walls were closing in on me; I needed to leave. I geared up: jeans, black adidas, and blue jacket (with a pin that says "I'm a MATH superstar" which I've had since second grade).

I got into the elevator and pressed the button for the first floor. My ears filled with a tired hum and my eyes were greeted with cold steel gleaming from almost every angle. The ground beneath me jerked and as the elevator stopped on the 7th floor. What the fuck? The doors slid open and revealed a couple that were in the middle of kissing. The girl was wearing a tight pink blouse and blue jeans; the boy was just on the edge of my sight, blocked by the elevator walls. They continued, oblivious to me. I stood, slightly embarrassed, trying to look like I wasn't watching. I was an observer; I was an intruder. My cheeks turned red and I looked at my shoes. The elevator doors were taking forever to close. The girl finally opened her eyes and looked at me. I smiled shyly at her as the doors finally slid closed.

The night outside was cold for the first time in quite a while. Standing in front of Beaty Towers was a large group of kids waiting for the Later Gator bus service to take them to the local clubs. They were dressed in tight, shiny clothing. I'm sure most of them were going to get laid later tonight. These kids were too cool for their own good. Many were shivering. Their discomfort was my revenge. It made me feel better, don't ask me why. I walked past them and down into the darkness of Yulee Pit, beside the tennis courts. I stared up into the sky for a few minutes but the night was a solid slate gray. Fuck.

I traveled alone through dark buildings, stopping occasionally to examine them. I stood and watched empty buildings.
I walked through the art building where students had painted famous works across rows of lockers.
I watched the fountain outside the Chryser building until it was shut off. The water fell, lit beautifully from inside. Cascading waves of light filled my vision.

Crossing 13th Street, I headed out into the city, my hands jammed firmly into the pockets of my jacket. Brakelights covered my vision and burned darkly away into the night. The homeless peoples of Gainesville sat and watched me pass in silence. There was a show taking place at Common Grounds, I asked who was playing but got no response.

Thoughts ran freely through my head, the kind of swiftly running ideas that usually occur right before I fall asleep at night. Each step a little bit of my frustration melted away. Every step took me further from my problems. I was still an observer, I watched the traffic and the people and the buildings, I was cataloging it all in my head.

I passed a couple people standing and talking outside of the Wayward Council. A block later I finally decided to head back toward the campus. But on the way I heard noise coming from the red Council building. I looked inside and the people I had seen earlier were rocking. They were having band practice. I smiled and saw their silhouettes rock back and forth. I sat down on the sidewalk, laid my backpack beside me and took out my notebook. I let the music coming from inside frame the soundtrack for my night. I scribbled random notes and thoughts (they were all pretty bad). I wrote by streetlight, my hand painting dark shadows across the cold purity of blank pages. My fingers tingled in the cold night air and people who walked by gave me odd looks.

After about a half-hour the band came out and I talked to them for a few minutes. They were pretty nice and I told them some of my current frustrations. I was kind of in a weird mood to be laying my problems on complete strangers like that. I thanked them for letting me listen (although they hadn't known at the time) and headed back to the campus.

The show at Common Grounds was still going strong. I paused to examine fliers in windows and looked in almost every shop I passed. Then I came back to the dorm, sat down in front of the computer and became bored and angry again. Oh well.

At least I did something tonight. At least the night of September 29th and the early morning of September 30th weren't a complete waste. I was an observer but at the same time I was an active participant. Goodnight everyone.