From underneath rumblings in the Midwest to lights in the sky all above us, it has felt strange lately. And I don’t mean that burrito I got from 7-11. The Mayans only said that there would be change on December 21st, not the end of the world. (Party is at my place, by the way.) A mess of planets aligned on May 1st, 2000, which the Mayans predicted, and all that did was give us George W. Bush as president. The birds are singing differently, but the sky looks the same. I hope I can chalk it up to good old paranoia and aloneness, but there is concern.
Also, I do not trust ‘parking structures’.