Binary Tuberculosis

So this morning I’m waiting at the T station like normal, correction, I was waiting like normal until this guy comes around and loudly greets everybody with a cheery good morning. Now who the hell does that so early in the morning? But me, like a complete idiot with his unthinking reflexes, greets him back. Well, that was the path I chose, the one that leads to a ruined commute to work, which usually is uneventful and quite solemn. It is the effing morning after all, people should leave each other the hell alone, I wasn’t built for mornings.

So then this guy just starts chatting it up with me and at this point I’m cursing my mother for raising me so well since I’m responding all too politely. Turns out he’s a telemarketer that “sells” Republicans. Honestly… does it look like I know crap about politics? I’ll just vote for whoever cares about the environment, technology, and doesn’t want to kill and/or coerce people. Everything else I chalk up to my “ignorance is bliss” argument.

Eventually he asks if there is such a thing as a gay gene (I think I tossed out the fact that I work in genetic research earlier in the conversation). And mind you, this is inside the train as we’re traveling and he is a loud talker… in the morning! Who does that…? Well, I respond in my groggy fashion with something about there not being a straight gene (not one that we know about, or maybe we do, what the hell do I know, I just wanted to go back to sleep).

So then the conversation steers into how he thinks gays shouldn’t get married and should only have civil unions since the word “marriage” itself is only given by the church. Well he dropped that line of argument quickly when I mentioned my religious views, then he stuck out his hand, thanked me for speaking to him in a civil fashion, and we continued to wait for a couple minutes for my stop.

Also, did I mention that he said that people shouldn’t vote for Obama because he’ll be assassinated in two years? Yeah, I think I might have forgotten to mention that, his exact words by the way.

Tags: psycho

Note to self: Monday 5:30pm is too late to buy the good discounted shit when it comes to Easter candy.

Tags: food, holiday

So I’m off to run again, this time at two races, back to back. The Husky Run on March 29th and the Luv2Run Boston 5K #1 on March 30th. The worst thing about all of this? I have to be there by 10AM, what a pain. So if you’re around that day and want to maybe grab something to eat afterward (or meet me in the hospital), ping me.

The Independent Film Festival of Boston also started advertising today (at least I noticed it today). I remember last year I missed it and was hella pissed, I think I either had interviews or was out of town or something. This year I’m hoping to catch a lot of the flicks, but also hoping I’ll be able to skip out on work to do so. Will probably pick up the all movie pass instead of standing in line. Anybody want to join me? Going to movies alone is boring, ironically, especially since nobody talks. There was a pretty good line up of films last year, I’m sure this year will be the same.

Tags: festival, running

The albums I currently have on heavy rotation, a West Coast v East Coast match ironically.

Cold War Kids - Robbers & Cowards
I finally got around to checking this album out, a 2006 release I believe. Well, I am an idiot for not forcing myself earlier. They’re about 20% Blues (which I’m usually not a fan of) and 80% Indie Rock (is this still a genre? Seems like all bands these days classify themselves as this, pretty much taking the “indie” out of it, right?). I think everybody should listen to the first song of the album, We Used To Vacation. Honestly, the first time I listened to it, I found myself thinking, “Amazing, all that emotion…”. And I was pretty much sold on the album right away, gladly the rest of the album did not disappoint one bit.

Vampire Weekend - Vampire Weekend
I checked these guys out a couple weeks ago and after one listen I was impressed, after two I was hooked, on the third I wanted to impregnate them. I checked these guys out while listening to Cold War Kids and on a high from their music, but Vampire Weekend bested them, which I didn’t see coming at all. Everybody needs to give these guys a listen. Unique (yet not experimental) and catchy (yet not annoying).

That’s correct, that’s a scan of a psychotic letter I received recently in the mail.

Sender unknown? Check
Addressed to TB? Check
Sent from the middle of nowhere? Check
All my friends are truly oblivious of this? Check

So if you or anybody you know hates me (likely) and lives in Pierre, South Dakota (unlikely), please contact me:
tb AT binarytuberculosis DOT com

I was a little freaked out when I got this letter, opening it up late at night didn’t help, but going to straight to bed and forgetting about it did help. And it really was sent from Pierre, South Dakota, the USPS date stamp confirms it. That’s a bit hard to forge.

So what did I end up doing about this? Call the police? Call my mother? Move? Get aroused? Go CSI on the letter’s arse? Nay! I lazied out, contacted one person to see if she was lame enough to send me this letter (yes, she was lame enough and no, she didn’t send it) and then forgot about it. Figured if I was going to die or if it is some really strange prank, nothing I can really do about it except wait it out.

As of today it has been 15 days since the letter was mailed and nobody has come forward and I’m still alive. If you don’t hear from me after this post, well, I’m probably dead. If you do hear from me after this post, then I wish you were dead.

Tags: psycho

He hovered over the sink, naked, and stared at the mirror again tonight, straight into his undilated pupils, and he wondered to himself where his tears were. He couldn’t stop shaking, no matter how hard he gripped the sink with his bandaged hands. He then looked down and asked himself another question, the same one the doctors asked him every day for the past few weeks, why didn’t he realize he was carving his wrists with a knife?

…his left hand slips and his head bumps against the mirror… he finds himself forming an apology…

The only thing he remembers during that otherwise forgettable lunch was biting into his apple and then waking up in the infirmary. Was he really that far gone? No, it must have been the food, he did have a sensitive stomach, he always skipped breakfast for the same reason, never eating with the others.

…his lower back starts to ache as a drop of blood hits the ground unheard…

Maybe tomorrow he’ll go out for a walk, get some air, meet some new friends, find some new hobbies. “Tomorrow”, he thought to himself and smiled. His hands stop shaking and he hears heavy breathing. He backs away from the mirror, gently puts on his clothes, and climbs onto his bed. “Good night”, he whispers as loud as he can into the room and shuts his eyes and tries to do the same with his ears.

…he hears an apple being eaten in the other bed…

He wishes for a dream of tomorrow before falling asleep in his freshly bloodied underpants. He wonders how many days he has remaining in prison.

TB
Cambridge, MA
March 3, 2008