Earlier this evening I decided to treat myself to dinner out. I figure I deserved it, plus eats at the cafeteria on Friday are sparse. One meatball sub and rack of garlic bread later, I head out to one of the classroom halls to finish off a book.

It's more quiet than a graveyard after 5pm comes. The gorgeous silence all around me, violet-red fingernails tracing my face alongside the huge stained glass windows of some Gothic cathedral. Ah, if colors could not give melody to the ideas. It's dusk and I can almost feel happiness etched in the specks of dust floating on the sunlight.

Sanctuary was put on hold when I saw her. Her name is Victoria, someone I met a long time ago in fogged out circumstances. It's funny, the first time I remember her was at Safer Sex night, a campus-wide excuse to gyrate half-naked across from and against the sex of your choice. I thought she was interested in me back then. Heh, well I'm young, I can fantasize, it's my right.

We've had a long standing rain-check engagement to chat. She was the last person I expected to see. I silently cursed myself as I started walking with her to her CoOp (a place where people cook and clean for one another). I was supposed to be working. I ended up just taking it easy on myself.

She started asking me all sorts of questions about the conference last weekend (which I still haven't written about and very well may never at this rate). I was taken aback, slightly shocked. Here's an excerpt from my mind:

"Wait a second, you mean there's a human being that gives a rat's ass about what I did and wants DETAILS? You're just making conversation to amuse me. Can't be, you're actually asking intelligent questions. Wow, cool."

I hate small-talk. I like silence because people talk too much without saying anything. Finishing other people's sentences has it's own asshole thrill to it, though.

So she was eating, I was watching, and a friend of her's was watching me as I watched her eat with her eyes peeled to something neither of us paid attention to. Somehow we delved into the subject of taking risks, living freely (I played along), making odd comments about individuality and society, etc. College chat with verve, more or less.

At one point she looked a bit chagrined when she mentioned that she didn't do anything to inspire people. I don't know why, but I said something.

You have to understand that this girl is purity incarnate. She's always exceedingly pleasant, thoughtful, asks damn good questions, and has this air of innocence that almost seems surreal. She's partly the reason why I think adults can be innocent without naivete.

She's inspired me now and again. I told her as much. The quote up-top says it all: she was pleased and very confused. In a way it's sad, since she feels she doesn't makes an impact on anyone, that perhaps you have to be hardcore anything to make a statement. I told her you don't have to be exceptional or extreme to inspire.

That struck a chord in me. I thought for a few moments after parting with her why, why do I push it to the edge? The point is moot, rendered by the fact that it works for me; ain't broke, don't fix it. Plus I have those really cool little screwdrivers you use to re-adjust eyeglasses; don't even need one of those little rubber hammers (obscure reference to the sledgehammer analogy).

Social decision of weekend:

Do I go to the concert tomorrow at 8pm to see an incredibly attractive friend of mine sing and affectionately dote on her afterwards

OR

Do I go to the improv show tomorrow at 8pm to see an incredibly attractive friend of mine make an ass out of herself and affectionately dote on her afterwards

The flesh is weak; so sue me.

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