it's only the end of the world

well, it's the death of the week. i should celebrate, but i've still got the bulk of the day to suffer through, so i'm not going to bank on my survival till it's over.

nothing concrete orchestrated for this long weekend. maybe i can paint the windows black. have a howard hughes/axl rose party. i feel like being a shut-in. that thing that lives down the hall. malice razorbladehands.

guy at work got mugged last night, around columbus circle. this big mountain of a guy--looks like he'd be a bouncer--and he got mugged. i've never been mugged in this city. i think it's because of my invisibility cloak. (well, if someone pulls a gun on me this weekend, they're gonna have to use it.)

the readership of this hovel of a page comes and goes. what a strange concept, to broadcast whatever you want out to the world, whenever you want. millions of people with their own broadcast stations. how futuristic.

the future is full of doom.