awful bitch.

I'm so paranoid.

I know this sounds weird, but everywhere I go now, I look at people and I think:

"Hey; you could potentially decapitate me on a Greyhound bus."

Yes, actually. Weird, random shit like that always makes me more aware of "stranger danger". The thing is, as horrifying and sad as that story is, I can't help but be oddly fascinated by it. It's like when people slow down to look at a car accident, you know? So many questions I have unanswered, like....was the head still toting the much quoted earphones? What was he listening to while he was dying? What were his initial thoughts when the first stab happened? Far more important though, is what was his attacker thinking about the morning before it happened? Was he like "hey, I'm going to behead someone today." This is what fascinates me about human beings. Our ability to act so civilized is just a front to hide the horrible potential that crawls, morbid and ominous, just beneath the layers of epidermis that we call our skin. And you can argue all you like, but this same potential lurks inside every single one of us. Even me; I know.

I was in a bookstore yesterday researching dead rock stars as a warm-up for a party I have to go to (it's theme is 'dress up as your favourite dead celebrity'). I stumbled across my dear friend Vicky, and told her my predicament (i.e. I can't think of anyone to be for the party).

"Why don't you be that guy who got decapitated on that bus?"

Ooo. Too soon, Vick. Too soon.