Musings

[Sent during this.]

I'm going to Seattle Grace Hospital. Can't wait for Wolf. Something's happened to Luke.

Anyone want to go unicorn hunting searching with me this weekend?

Everyone seems to be in such a terrible mood today. Usually Fridays are happy, but everyone has been so... sour. My professors were short-tempered, my fellow students were all impatient and obtuse. Even people on the streets looked very glum and unwelcoming today. And then the forums were... very charged, I think?

Perhaps I'm wrong. Perhaps my interpretation is flawed.

I'm sure a cup of tea and some cookies will cast everything in a much nicer light.

My roommate seems to insist on returning to work soon. You were the nicest Could we discuss rates?

I do not know what kind of credentials to ask for. So.. no. I suppose I am not.

[Shortly after this is on display]

Enough. If it's not children half-dead from terror left on our godddamn doorsteps, it's vigilantes dying and kids brought into our ER with people in masks alongside them. Enough with the cryptic paintings that no doubt glorify the whole spectacle further.

And can I just express my utter horror at aforementioned kids coming in, hurt, when if they stayed off the streets, stayed out of the clutches of adults who should damn well know better? If you're going to be gathering, for god's sake have some damn sense. Even the police don't go out without wearing kevlar.

[after this and this and this; posted from Ally's mobile]

I would like to hire someone for personal security, to look after my roommate. I can pay very nicely.

Serious inquiries only, please and thank you kindly.

sorry for staying out so late.

Why the secretary couldn't just send out notes or something equally ridiculous

I hope you all enjoyed the ball.

[He skulked into the city on a stealthy scavenger hunt, sensed what he was looking for was enticingly near, and with the toothiest of grins used what little cash he had to set up shop. Wolf's arrival at Hamartia is punctuated by a merry tune as he whistles his way down the second floor. When he finds the proper apartment, there's silence. Twenty minutes or so, then the walls and floor of #204 shake: A box of something heavy is dropped. Silence again, shorter this time. Another heavy thump, then another, then another. It stops after the fourth thump.

Hamartia goes quiet (as it ever is) again. Wolf familiarizes himself with the lay of the land. Then:]

Tea shops! Stores! Cafes? No, that's coffee. Where's a body get a scone in this neck of the woods? And books! The discerning kind, what about those?

I'm going to leave a newspaper for the Starbucks Girls, clearly they're missing out on their dreams coming true.

SG1: “Superheroes are seriously sexy. Why can’t they be real?”

On that note, since I'm a giving kind of guy, if any of you are looking for a date...I'd be glad to set something up.

I even have insider information:

SG2: “When he said he didn’t want a blow job, it made me wanna give him one!”

If I wanted to put on a dress, put on fancy makeup and become the most confusing belle of the ball, I'd just watch my video of prom night again.

[Posted on the boards the night after this article goes live.]

I feel an obligation to dispel some ideas that seem to have cropped up recently about the nature of vigilantes. I can't speak for the other members of this strange fraternity I find myself a part of. We don't know each other. But I can speak for myself, and I will.

Children should be children. They should not be hunting down murderers and stopping crimes. They should have childhoods, since that is the point, is it not? We kill the people who would keep those children from their lives, who would take happiness and opportunity from them. Whether you believe in killing men and women who destroy the lives of children like that, or whether you believe they should be properly tried in our broken justice system, children need to be left out of the equation.

You do not need to 'keep your children safe' from us. We're not the ones you should be worrying about. And if someone is pushing this supposed killer child to do what she is doing, he can consider himself a wanted man.

Just thought it worth clearing up.

-C

Do you like pizza and/or zombies?

Hey! Are you busy Friday? We should have a get together!

Pizza. Mountain Dew. Zombies?

To the woman I passed on the street today while bringing home groceries -

Throwing your sandwich into the face of a homeless man and accusing him of laziness hardly seems appropriate behavior toward another human being, but who am I to judge you? Your coat indicated a certain level of wealth and ease of living, but maybe you've scraped your way up from the gutter, and you know what it is to be someone at the bottom of society's barrel, and you know how very lazy most of them are. Maybe you got where you are today solely by ingenuity and hard work. Somehow, however, your extensive and immaculate manicure makes me doubt your proclivity toward hard labor. So if you were so blessed as to marry well (as your ring seemed to imply) or, maybe, inherit well, I don't think you are in any position to judge a man on the street looking for loose change to buy a fast food lunch with. May your husband be sleeping with your maid, and may the little boy you had by the wrist grow old enough to spend all of your money and leave you destitute. Maybe then you'll understand what it's like to suffer the indignity of begging for loose change, and the desperation that makes a man keep begging even after a woman of high society has thrown her lunch at his face.

rough day

maybe you folks want to regale me with a bunch of those silly pictures of cats

people tell me cats are funny these days

I was misled today in the most awful manner.

There was a boy on campus handing out fliers that invited people to attend a Tea Party, which I thought sounded lovely. Who doesn't love a tea party, after all? There's always delicious tea and usually wonderful little cakes or tarts or other sweets. Usually one has a tea party with friends, and so there's good conversation and company. When I asked about these things, however, the young man described something completely different. It didn't sound at all like a lovely tea party, but rather like a boring political gathering. I gave him back his flier and left, but then decided to give him an explanation for my displeasure – he seemed very confused when I told him that he shouldn't deceive people with his posters.

When I went back to find him, though, he was gone.

And now I'm not sure if he was ever there, or if he was something that I just imagined on my way to Philosophy... But what an odd daydream that would be.

A public forum for us to speak our minds. How novel. I may not speak well, but I speak often.

Has anyone noticed the crime?

It's a march here, like a job. Occupational but something that people enjoy, set themselves to with fervor. None of the light touch of home, the intensity of unreason. It's frenzied. It's fundamentally the same but with the speed kicked up, shrill as a 35 played at 78 speed. It's just multiplied on itself, folded back over one more time. It's wanton, but there's a distinct lack of extremity. Some intensity lies there, but so much of it is pettier, simpler, with smaller risks and smaller costs.

Death is different too. It's cheaper currency since it can come so many ways that have nothing to do with crime, and it flows through hands like water, the city an abattoir collecting the blood of martyrs. The world is a fairy story where none of the seven sisters make it home.

Why did you come here?

Do you want to go home?