what’s really nice is when you’re sitting at the coffeehouse writing a paper, and all the windows are open, and the crispy cold air is blowing in, and pink floyd’s “run like hell” comes on the cafe stereo. “run like hell” doesn’t really fit with the mood, but it’s a good song, so you go along with it.

mostly i’m just happy about the crispy cold air.

i had a dream the other night that joseph fiennes was a force of evil. he threw a glass orb at my head, making a permanent indention in my skull. my friend amanda still insisted on going out with him, and she spent most of their date hunched over and crying, which i knew would happen, because, you know, he was evil. then later joseph fiennes was a black-and-white cartoon, and he was in vanessa redgrave’s stairwell, waiting for her to come around the corner so he could kill her. as he waited, he painted his face with colors, so that he would be a color cartoon. when he painted each part of his face, he’d mutter, in french, the name of the color he was using. it was a horrible growling sort of voice too, because, you know, he was evil. he painted his eyes this really light, scary blue, and then i woke up. perhaps by now he’s killed vanessa redgrave, because, you know.

hey, do you think i should set up some sort of fucked-up-dream website? there’d be no analysis or anything, just people’s random surreal dreams. it could be fun, i don’t know. do you?