A week ago, I walked around the engineering campus, gazing into the artificial lake/stream which is apparently home to thousands of mosquitoes, both old and new.  The insects buzzed around my head as I walked up the fire escape/scaffolding of a random engineering building.  When I reached the top, I sat down and thought to myself.  People occaisonally came by in clusters, on the opposite side of the stream, or in the distant grass walkway near Grainger Library.
I wondered what I was doing up on that scaffolding, staring at people and trying to come up with some interesting thought or groundbreaking idea.  Perhaps the main reason is that I wanted to be seen.  I wanted someone to come by and say "hello" or offer a friendly "what are you doing up there?"  but no one did.  i'm not even sure if the passerbys glanced at me or not.  i want to feel necessary, i don't feel as such right now.

Today started out like a day from september or october of last year, when I went over to Tim's to see a DVD of the anime series Serial Experiments: Lain.  The sky was a lazy gray, too tired to bother getting any darker than a pasty off-white.  It rained/drizzled slightly both today and back then.  It was colder last year, however, so much so that I could see my breath and it made my nose run.  Nowadays, I don't need to walk very far to see Tim,  or the other way around.  It's a stark contrast to last year, and I miss those long silent walks, staring at the trees, the graveyard, or random passerbys.  At some point I suppose I'll take up that walk again, just to see if it's still the same.  Undoubtedly, though all the monuments and people will be the same, the feeling will not, and it shall be a let down.  Memories or dreams are always that way; better than reality.  Equin0x once said "When that Matrix machine is built, let me be the first to be hooked up. And don't wake me up. Not tomorrow. Not in fifty years. Not ever."  I think I want to be the second.
I live across the street from graduate student dormitories.  The building is much taller than this apartment honeycomb.  I've stayed up until one or two in the morning, just staring into those rooms about forty feet away.  Usually, the lights in half the rooms/buidling stay on all night (or as long as I'm up).  Sometimes I see people moving around inside.  I think it must be either insanely fun to be a graduate student, or insanely difficult, since there has to be some reason for wanting to stay up until that point of the night.  I don't plan on becoming a graduate student.  More schooling is not in my planned future.  I'll never know what they do with their lights on all night long.
Today I turned nineteen.  I actually forgot this fact until about six in the evening.  It's just another day, it doesn't hold much relevance or importance to anyone, not even me.  I'm not sure why society attaches such overemphasized value to a day when millions of other nonspecial people begin to breathe oxygen combinations the same way you do.  I wanted to conclude this wittily, or with some thoughtful closing remark, but I cannot come up with anything this moment.  Perhaps that's it, there's nothing more to say on the topic.