16 May 2004

I'm traveling back and forth through the city, every time rushing. At my destination there is this bathroom which I have to go through to get to my destination. Each time I pass through the counter is full of people's stuff: women's watches, earrings and neckalces. All of it is beautiful, or antique, many made of precious materials. I'm looking through the items and I know none of it is mine, but I think about taking it. In the end though I realize that I have no real desire for any of it.
On one trip, either there or back, I am with Brian, and he is driving. We are trying to get some coffee and we are lost. I'm anxious because I'm late and we are arguing. Finally we pull into this industrial yard and a woman I recognize comes out. When I ask her where we can get some coffee, she replies: "Right here," and walks off to make our coffee. I feel better, more relaxed and I watch the rusty machines in the yard. I think about the bathroom from earlier, how in contrast it was so spotless and fancy, yet also homogenized in a way.
At some point I end up in this apartment. It is mostly empty, and has tall ceilings. There is a couch, a television and a large open kitchen. The man who lives there is in his 30's, a white guy who walks around in these white and grey speckled jogging pants. For some reason he and I are at odds and we are yelling. There is, at one time, someone else there, and while this guy is yelling at me, he's got his cock hanging out. When he realizes, he gets frustrated and I laugh at him, citing that as proof of his stupidity. In the end though, it is I who is wrong and I am apologizing to another person who is with me, I feel that I got them in trouble, but they are calm and compassionate.