At the CVG airport and trying to kill time. Stupid early-morning CNN is blaring. Across the aisle of seats from me is from left-to-right as follows:

• A man in sandals and a camo baseall cap. He is built large, with facial hair, but elicits the air of a gamer. He munches on chips
• Next is a tired-looking blond girl with glasses and an overall drab appearance. She has a pink scarf and broken fingers in casts.
• Between these two, a female with dark brown hair, bangs, ponytail. Nervous-looking. Air of an indie-pop idol. Puffy, fashionable jacket, well-worn Ugg boots and leggings. She recently pulled out a small plush husky from her bag and looked around as she placed it on the bag facing her.
• A girl with a red coat sorts money next to me. She has a blonde highlight in her bangs
• The 20-something All-Star billboard across from me has been stoicly reading a book in one hand, phone in the other for the past half hour. He has headphones.
• To my left, a man in his mid-20s with an oblong head stares open-mouthed at the CNN special.
• A couple my age arrives. They hug. The girl looks confused. The boy looks tired.

• 14:38 - My coworker [redacted] seems like the kind of guy permanently stuck in a fraternity. Many of his stories seem to revolve around it, alcohol or similarly 'masculine' subjects. He is eager to talk to people and show people around. His position is not glamorous. He has a certain air of loneliness, perhaps a lost shade of his college years sometimes. He just wants to pal around again. He's easy enough to get along with, it just sort of struck me as I talked to him this morning.

• 17:34 - I missed the best train home by a minute, but that's okay, next train in about twenty minutes. I would have made the train, but I was playing Galaga after work. I git 5th place and knocked one of [redacted[ scores off. Nearly everyone at this station is on their phones. Heads bowed in a semicircle around where the doors will open to the platform like a ritual at an amphitheater or a vigil held by the tired and impatient.

  Walking around rush hour in [San Francisco] is bizarre. Swarms of human bodies crowd street corners waiting for lights to change. The rushed and apathetic cross in front of bike and truck traffic. Wild teenagers taunt middle-eastern taxi drivers, each exchanging middle fingers, shouts and jerk-off gestures. The streets fill with chatter and horns. Newest designer clothes swoop past elderly couples and regiments of foreign office workers. The homeless and bored hold signs and wish a happy new year-- a holiday long forgotten by those who have re- turned to work this week. I'm salmon cutting upstream in those moments when the sidewalk splits at an intersection. The dam breaks and each body miraculously avoids the other. Reminiscent of AI drone swarms

  And then as the time approached to board the train, the bowed heads rose, fear- ful eyes of remembrance. That which would soon come. As the doors opened the people pushed forward taking small steps at first and then long, awakened strides toward the train cars. In the station it was silent, but now on the train, the conversation erupts. Whatever anxiety that compelled silence only moments ago has now disappeared and I can determine a dozen subjects discussed. Shopping, work, legality, anecdotes, mobile gaming. Excited tones, hushed discussion about some recent policy change.

• 05:15 - I'm going to San Francisco again today, but for whatever dumb reason (I think I was planning on biking to Caltrain), I decided to get up at like fucking 4:15AM. It did grant me the opportunity to see the spooky, foggy streets of Santa Clara as they lay abandoned and washed with street lights.

• 19:14 On the Santa Teresa/Alum Rock VTA near Convention Center. There are a ton of young people on the train, apparently going to a Borgore show at SJSU. There's a girl in a pink tutu and candy galore. Apparently it's their station so I predict the VTA will quiet down greatly once they get off.

  Today I biked from Morgan Hill to the Santa Teresa VTA station. After getting off the train, I looked around and eventually found Carmine, the guy I was buy- ing the Nokia N900 from. He was definitely a mountain man, living atop Loma Prieta. He had a thick grey beard and a weathered face. He wore sweat pants and a dirty sweatshirt. We talked briefly and exchanged our goods. I was hungry as fuck so I went to a track-side Vietnamese place. It was overpriced, but I got a large serving of tofu/noodle soup. I ate a little bit of it, talked to the owner about my new purchase and then packed up the rest of the soup into my backpack and headed out on the bike trail.

  Morgan Hill is a cute town, not unlike Lebanon, Madeira, or Yellow Springs [Ohio]. I went through town and directly up the biggest hill ( I really didn't need to but it was fun to go down). Despite the quickly approaching nightfall, I ped- dled on. If it weren't for the nice bike lane and bus line that provided a safety net, I probably wouldn't have been able to bike home. It was so worth it to feel the power of my own body moving me forward, though. There was one surreal scene as I was leaving Morgan Hill. The sun was casting red streaks on the clouds as I biked. On the other side of the street I saw a man on an exhausted-looking horse walking. At the same time I saw a recently killed calico cat laying in the center of the rush-hour-filled road. A hispanic man stood, smoking a cigarette and looking confused at the roadkill. For the rest of the trip to the station, I was telling myself 'just one more stop'. When I finally stopped at a bus stop, I saw I was more than half way to the station so I just continued biking.

• 19:17 - It's almost silent on the VTA now that we have passed the Borgore show area except for two white guys talking about chemistry and business.
• 19:20 - Some dude just stepped onto the train with a puppy in his backpack, it's little head is poking out of the top. The guy is black, wearing his baseball cap back- wards and sporting a circle of facial-hair around his mouth. He has a suitcase with him, a red sweater and athletic pants. His leg extends into the aisle. He is looking around, bored.
• 19:28- I hear the phrase "lunch and learn" from the gentleman next to me. The conversation is being dominated by the one next to me.
• 19:29 - On the rear of the train, there is an Indian woman tapping on her phone. She does not have her earbuds in. She has a geometrically-patterned purse and fashionable boots. She looks blankly up at the sign reading out the stop "Metro/Airport"
• 19:31 - The man with the dog has leaned his head on the shoulder of the woman next to him. I was previously unaware of a relationship between them. She seems like his mother. She is on her phone.
• 19:32 - A second cyclist has joined me in this compartment. He has two teardrop tattoos under his right eye. He is looking at his phone. He has a leather case that is attached to his belt. He looks about 24 years old. He has baggy, dyed jeans and a black hoodie.
• 19:35 - Two guys got onto the train. The Indian-looking fellow is wearing an American flag printed wife beater. He's leaning back sideways across two seats as he talks to his friend in the row behind him.

• Very small bike next to mine on the rack. It can't even reach the bottom support. There's a large bald man in a purple shirt with eyeglasses tied back around his head giving the impression that the top of his head is removable. He wears sandals barefoot.and shorts.

• Two people sit on the bench at river oaks tapping on their phones. One is a white male early 30s standard wavy haircut. He wears a great suit and black shoes. The girl wears sunglasses and a hoodie with brown boots. She has not looked up unlike the man who has been looking around with a sort of nervous anticipation. He bites his lip.
• A mother with two young daughters in tricolored skirts walked by. As she steadily walked they hobbled and hopped anxiously
• A VTA operator sits stands at the end of the platform arms crossed. The businessman leaves with his binder and water bottle. He seems frustrated.
• An Asian man my age wears baggy jeans and a white T-shirt. He's older than I thought. He has glasses and cradles his phone.The VTA has aarived
• Two people jam their suitcases in the doors and panic as they exit. They look like they flew in from eastern Kentucky
• A woman boards with a black and white star-speckled backpack. She frustratedly removes her pass to show the inspector. She has glasses atop her head and her hair is in a curt bun. Behind her sits a middle-aged Indian man wearing converse and a blue and teal striped sweater. He has very small spectacles, listens to music and looks out the window.
• Two people have boarded. The inspector pounces. A nondescript Asian office worker and a man with a bike. The man with the bike has tight canvas pants, a fluorescent volcom backpack and a short purple Mohawk. He looks to be about 23.
• A man in a safety vest boards with his bike. He has a red bull in one hand and fumbles for his pass with the other hand.
• A young mother and her infant son board. She talks to him in sweet tones and happiness. He dawdles around speaks non-words. Its his birthday today. He wears a striped red and white shirt as he feels the window and looks out. He's standing on the train seat.
• Two young Indian men board in programmer chic. An older woman with grotesquely curled hair makes a smoker's cough.
• A nondescript white male leaves. Three people board. Inspector pounces. A man sits in the handicapped seat with his bike.
• Two new people board. A girl with long flowing hair that sometimes curls, converse, high rising mom jeans a top, a midriff and a loose jacket. She has a whispy fluorescent backpack and reads a hardcover novel.
• A large man around ,28 years of age with a ponytail and a five o clock shadow. He has a black backpack and a black sweater.

17:19 - From the fire escape of the 3rd floor of the HI Downtown San Diego hostel. The streets have gotten active. Couples now walk around and cars zip through intersections, but cruise slowly past restaurants. The smell of tomatoes next to fried food wafts up to where I sit. The paint of the window I’m leaning against is chipping into a faded blue pile. Let me describe a few people I see among this multitude under the warm shine of the early evening street lights ad premature neon of eager establishments.

• Four people walking in a perfect box formation. Mid thirties, females in front, men in back. Puffy jacker
• A man, blonde crew cut and glasses with a blue athletic jacket, converse, white socks and shorts. He chews gum, turns and waits for an older man to catch up, he says something and continues on.
• A whistle from somewhere in a building across the street. A summoning of some sort, it seems.
• Beneath me, a woman on her smartphone, her friend holds a clipboard and gesticulates with her free hand.
• A couple slowly walking. The girl looks cold and dour. Her grey hoodie is up
• A small child with a comical hat is being carried by his assumed mother. She adjusts the hat frequently and smiles.
• A man has come out to the street corner holding a large sign in the shape of an arrow reading “2 gyros for $7”. He sets it down to adjust his pants and look at his phone. He looks nervously toward the restaurant he should be promoting. He wears an oversized hoodie and baggy grey pants. He is balding, middle aged and Hispanic. He seems to be lost
• A mother, father and son walk by. White. The son is in his early 20s- bonaroo fashion with slicked over blonde hair.
• A man in varying shades of grey and black walks down the street with white earbuds in. He is lipsyncing to something and presumably not just rambling to himself.
• Across the street is an Irish pub called The Field. A large gathering of young adults of the Hispanic and caucasion variety is outside. They have a great deal of beer. A large group of yuppies exits and proceeds down the street in a flamboyant an jovial manner reminiscient of a group of frat/sorority brothers and sisters walking to a house party.
• A young Indian family walks past the restaurants. The father holds the hand of the child with one hand and carries a bag filled with retail goodies under the other arm.
• A motorcycle spins down the street, making a sputter of dirty fuel.
• A small group of children in multicolored hats is led by a mother and on older daughter. They look to be tourists and the move in sporatic, wave-like motion as the kids are distracted by various conversations and sights.
• A girl and her brother walk about pointing at things and taking pictures with a nice DSLR.
• A couple walks by quickly. The woman has grey, black and white patterned pair of leggings.
• A bike-rickshaw is in traffic. It plays RnB. The cars around it seems less than thrilled about it. The lights change colors on the seat lit by leds.
• A woman is walking quickly with a backpack, rolling luggage, and a large stuffed animal under her arm.
• Even more cars are out now as it edges toward 17:40. A car full of coconuts drives by. More couples, predominately white, Hispanic, and upper-to-middle class arrive.
• There is some sort of large event going on at the Barley Mash.
• One of the towers I can se from inside the room is office space. Only a few rooms are lit. At the apartment complexes, about 10% of the rooms have the lights on.

22:04 - Everyone has turned on their neon lights. The cars have packed he streets as tightly as the people have packed the sidewalks. I’m still working up the courage to climb the latter next to me.

• The bike rickshaws are now using their disco balls and strobe lights but continue to play the same three pop songs.
• A drunk man sings or rather growls lyrics to a song mostly consisting of moans and ‘hey’ ouside the burgerlounge. There are a million different bass-heavy songs playing.
• A couple walks underneath me. Each has a large slice of pizza.
• A rickshaw passes by playing Gangnam Style. He cuts off a car in traffic.

23:13 - I was able to shake off the panic I received after climbing the sketchy ladder

• Crowds are now gathered outside Nicky Rotten’s bar. Barleymash is still the hoppingest place.
• Someone was sitting next to a trash can near the crowds outside barleymash, but they are gone now.
• There are so many people that it’s hard to focus on a single one.
• An average looking young couple walks below me. Her hand is on his back, his arm is over her shoulders. They can do this comfortably due to their height differences.
• I see a lot of taxisI see a lot of extraordinarily tight, gaudy, sparkly dresses.
• A woman is on the phone across the street. She has black tights and a brown skirt with a black top and a grey hat. She looks horribly out of place as she twirls a small black purse.
• A thick cloud of weed has reached me.
• I see a guy in shorts and some sort of elaborate scarf around his neck. I don’t know what he’s doing with the group of people he is with.
• BMW, Toyota, Ford taxi, Ford taxi, pickup truck, rickshaw, Toyota taxi, Toyota Taxi, Ford Taxi
• Jacked-up lowrider that just pulled onto 5th street. It’s engine rumbles the whole block.
• Someone is shouting drunkenly at a rickshaw operator.
• A rickshaw filled with loud, drunk white girls just cut around traffic. They all cheered and waved their arms.
• Rickshaw, rickshaw, ford taxi, ford taxi, vw jeta, ickshaw, bmw, Nissan, chevy suv, ford taxi, rickshaw, rickshaw, charger, gms suv, vw car, ford taxi, mazda, vw, Nissan, Toyota taxi, rickshaw

• 20:21 - Across from me is an Asian man cross legged engrossed in some sort of media on his laptop. He has a macbook and two backpacks. Next to him is a hip couple. The girl has died brown hair, glasses, a Strawhat, a black dress, unicorn stuffed animal and a hello kitty snuggy. She sports a lot of black tattoos. Her boyfriend has blue jeans, a burgundy vneck shirt and boat shoes. He is bouncing his leg incessantly. He has a neck rest pillow. They speak of margaritas
• 20:25 - Next to them is a girl with both hands clasped on the upper corners of her macbook. She has a sparkly shirt, black leggings, and leather boots. She takes a swig of soda

• 20:35 - There's an older couple who have their son on speaker phone. He is interviewing at various medical labs. He's talking quite a bit.

  There is a woman with a gaudy T-shirt speaking in Spanish to her phone. She has headphones in and has her phone titled in a similar 45 degree angle as her head.

• 14:00 - The man next to me holds up his phone as he watches a movie on his iPad. He has been burping every couple of minutes
• 14:20 - A woman carries her infant. Once screaming, now sleeping on her shoulder, up the aisle. Behind her, the flight attendant carrying water. I realize how strangely humans walk, shifting their weight back and forth, giving the illusion of swaying when viewed at the correct angle
• 15:10 - I hear everyone's phone go off a dozen times as a flood of messages are received upon our landing
• 16:17 - I feel as though I've landed in the Mall of America. Groups of young Asian tourists with paper masks. I've now counted 6 caribou coffees
• The girls are asleep. Overweight white mothers with pseudostylish short haircuts. Young hipsters with old luggage curled around them. Workers apathetic eating slowly. A gaunt and unshaven man in an open fireman's jacket.
• 16:35 - Long layovers as half the people are scrunched in some uncomfortable sleeping position. Office spaces become weak isolation chambers for exhausted foreigners.
• 16:41 - The flight to Michigan is filled with exhausted bearded passengers, flannels and neutral colors. The men behind me are talking about college sports. March madness I suppose.
• 16:51 - A man on a cart transporting queue line posts. The rumble and static of a basketball game happening on the TV behind me. Roller bags dot the gate waiting area. A pilot with a Japanese/US flag pin looks around like I do. My right ear refuses to pop.

14:33- It's rather bright and cheery. We follow a group of alt looking folks. Inside, I'm immediately greeted by a tall, sad-looking blonde with a black trench coat. Her hair reaches far down an androgymous back. The gift shop is extarordinarily crowded. Two short girls in MCR shirts. Hipsters in sunhats. White families in neon shirts. An exhausted and dour girls soccer team. Old couples and tourists resting in the shade. Sad merchandising on a beautiful estate. A young hispanic child spinning his arms back in forth near a hedge. Cameras out everywhere. Someone posing in the distance. A bearded man laying down in the grass. Four boys of about 12 years punching each other on the porch. An asian man sitting casually on a bench. A large raven has landed on a hedge, scaring the people below. The greenhouse is beautiful. White latticed and tile. A weird girl with dyed black hair stared at me as I strolled past her. A teenage couple, female in a short dress chirping happily to the Deadhead-looking male.

16:19 - A pale white girl thin with pale white hair in a black lace dress and a black brimmed hat-- posing as a witch? A dude a little younger than I in an Entombed shirt. Very, very goth people on the same tour as white suburban tourists. A guy with partially, recently dyed green hair, the dye still on his chin and his short girlfriend. They seem to be having fun here. A hollister sweatshirt and capris walking with someone with a full length dress and a denim jacket. A black Warped Tour band sweater, black and white striped sweatpants, camouflage converse eating an ice cream cone. Two girls with black and white bows in their hair, teenagers but looking for their parents apparently. An Indian man in a puffy jacket. Two heavyset girls in Adventure Time and a Warped Tour Band tshirt respectively. They are with their mother.

17:04 - Heavyset Filipino gentleman touching all of the original wallpaper and walls that we were implored not to touch. The tour guide taking a much more positive perspective on Mrs. Winchester than the last time I took this tourr.

21:07 - In the parking lot of Great America, watching employees exit.

• A large asian man in red huddles behind a car with an average sized hispanic girl. He has his hands in his pockets and black sunglasses on the wrong side of his head.
• Three younger employees including a boisterous girl charge toward their car.Across the parking lot I can still hear the girl's screach. From a distant car radio I hear a Three Days Grace song.
• A group of workers in referee ousdits exits. People wander out to the lot in packs of two, three, or four. Almost no one is alone.
• A small number of people sit on the grassy knoll or stone retaining wall, waiting silently and individually for a vehicular pick up.
• I hear the gentle hum of a distant generator though the rides have all closed. I hear cars and car doors and a distant highway. I hear snippets of the park radio station that must presumably play with the same constance as an eternal flame. I hear the conflicting treble ting of a hip hop cymbal roll and clap.

21:18 - Sullen teenagers walk by. Some dick in a souped up truck starts his vehicle and blinds me with his headlights. I hear the gaudy roar of monster truck engines from Levi Stadium matched with the roar of a crowd and the canned excitement of the announcers. Fireworks from the stadium. Mutilated bird caws from the trees. "The Final Countdown" plays on the Great Amer- ica PA.

19:26 - I'm walking home now, along my standard post-SJ route. River Oaks across Guadelupe to a trail that butts into Lick Mill. The mallards are screaming bloody murder and I hear squirrels (I think) in the trees. As for humans, two Indian folks who must have changed into workout attire before leaving the office ae doing stretches on the bridge, not together, but separate, sharing the proximity as a practical necessity in this overcrowded suburb. Like passengers on a train. A jogger, rather stumbling with a hop walk of near-death exhaustion passes me. His movements and breath like an elderly man on a death march.

19:32 I near the playground and its distinctive twill of children's voices, each individual child's voice escaping the ambient din of childhood to express excitement or fear. Two prepubescent Indian girls in matching school uniforms do cartwheels and angst against a tree. Their young parents (also in neutral color) walk by. The younger daughter whines in a sort of cutesy way for the mother to watch. Crows and songbirds make aural warfare in the boughs above 3-story, apartment houses. More children appear out of bushes and flower beds and blue-black bins of trash-recycling. A childrens' rhyme, a bouncing deflated ball, a soft electric car whir, a plane overhead. A jogger, rather stumbling with a hop walk of near-death exhaustion passes me. His movements and breath like an elderly man on a death march.

15:44 - I'm across the street from LobotGallery, this strangely popular old warehouse gallery. A benefit for the space is going on and the first band just played. A duo, a girl with a simple guitar/ amp setup and a dude with a cute Melvins shirt and long blonde hair hitting a ruined drumset plastered with Salvador Dali prints. Some stoned lady who I overheard was a cam girl and grad student just hovered over me and asked me to vote for her friends tshirt design. There are many artsy people and only a few booths selling art. It's sunny and warm when the wind isn't blowing.

16:18 - Pink Slime just played. They were pretty cool and played a remark- ably short set. Watching individuals across the semi-circular ring of spectators was interesting. A group now congregates by the park across the street. Too many to describe expect by their magnitude. About 50 in view. A lesbian couple to my right, head in hands looking bored or upset. A crossdresser/trans person alone, blonde and in a sleeveless vertically b/w striped shirt. Puffs of smoke and cans of alcohol in the midday sun. Hardly midday but its warm. Leather and colorful hair, strange haircuts and clusters of 3- 5 people. Band shirts and lobot logos and dresses and vests. Only a few straggling crust punks, most people look straight out of art school. A girl in a buttonup and sweater with cutoff jeans and a schoolboy haircut talking to a girl with a shaved head and denim vest over a black hoodie and short shorts. And tattoos and piercings and jewelry in asymmetrical places. And bikes two to a pole and vans and beatup sedans. Trees covering graffited walls. I feel like a solid half of the worlds spray paint ends up in Oakland on walls and signs and anything.

17:06 - Wizard Apprentice just played, a quiet black girl with broad shoulders and the softest voice. She played alone, music coming from her iPad, singing personal songs, pausing each time a song ended to explain the meaning of the next. The way she laughed sometimes in happy memory was incredibly endearing. Not nearly as captivating or perhaps even talented as the other acts, her mellow songs were beautiful nonetheless. Suddenly fear that I haven't been looking people in the eyes as I've talked to them. Large circles of weirdos have formed in the park and sidewalk, some standing, some in crosslegged relaxation. A bro-y dude with sunglasses, a big beard and a snapback. He holds a PBR tallboy in his hand, the can hanging down from his palm. Two girls next to me are talking about their jobs as product developers in the software industry. 'Business analysts'. Interesting.

19:18 - Religious Girls were apectacular. There is a Monarch butterfly being devoured by ants outside.

20:05 - Deaf strangers communicating on the BART and the crowd of party people who get on at Bay Fair. It's getting rather dark. Twilight, Streetlights and parking lot lights and house lights and comm towers and reflected incandescence of the BART are what I see in the window. Silhouette of a palm tree a hundred miles north of where it should be. Bro-y loudness. I hope they aren't intoxicated so early, but I also hope they aren't that loud in sobriety. A girl in leather has curled up on the seat in front of me, blond hair, acne on her forehead now endearing. Looking desperately sad. Dressed too nicely to be homeless. Maybe a ghost to haunt the train. 20-something easily as tall as me. I don't know how she sleeps with the vicious screech of this train. The deaf people, I can see them clearly now, a bearded 20-something. Hip- looking, an older couple of ladies in nice sweaters. I recall that there is a sleeping boy/man across the aisle out of view. Asleep, head slumped since I boarded this train. I hope he didn't miss his stop.

21:01 - Walking home along the dark path from the River Oaks light rail station. Listening to KFJC. Burial is playing. I walk to the unlit bridge across the Guadelupe. I see for one last time the wise-windowed and dollhouse illuminated apartments there. I see a mother dressing a small child. A lone asian sitting on a couch with the dining table pulled upclose. A laptop on the table, his head hunched over soup. The apartment unfurnished. These streets only partly illuminated with special care for exposed and frequently targeted mailboxes. I smell the artificial sweet imported flowers by the sidewalk. Sounds of KFJC gets more aggressive with thickly layered abstract techno I near Lick Mill I look in cars which seem either immaculately clean or show signs of a live-in resident. A car sits diagonally in a spot. A lazy parallel parker who left the emergency lights on. Suddenly there are half a dozen cars at the intersection. I remember the stoned pubescents on the train, the one most faded, as was termed, was slouched far to the right onto the shoulder of an already uncomfortable friend. The stoned one bearing a large hickey up the side of his neck.

20:18- A manager with died black hair and copper-red highlights

23:00 - First class is strange. The hostess, a young and slim black girl personally introduces herself to everyone. One of the passengers, a hefty male late in years immediately proceeds to hit on her. She's backed into a polite and well-practiced, I'm sure, set of rejoinders. Chicago is a beautiful firey city of arrow straight roads, divided into triangles by one main diagonal road. Unfortunately I only have a view of the suburbs.