Paranoia

The more people I get to know the less I say to them. I view everyone as potential threats these days and not giving them something to talk about pretty much occupies my mind in most conversations. It's either they're prey or I am. Of course there are a select few who I let go and just let them see me for the confused, friendly, curious person I am but for the rest? I snap at. I don't care what people think about me so long as they do what I say.

The person I talk to most days is Bryan. Bryan's this old homeless guy who shuffles around school and the neighbourhood shopping mall for change. He always says God bless to everyone who walks on by. We've been having these conversations Bryan and I, sitting on a park bench outside the mall sharing bagels. It's a haphazard dance, me curious about Bryan but not wanting to get him to ask me for anything and as for him? God knows how he views me. Cute girl. ? (Oh don't go there, I don't want to have to kick 80year old buaya balls) Friendly conversation in the face of uncaring pedestrians walking on by? Or maybe he just doesn't care, maybe he just talks for conversation, to have a facade of normalcy in his life. The guy sleeps on his feet you know. He begs because he makes more from that and welfare than working. Sigh. I KNEW taxes were a bad idea. The comforting thing about Bryan is that he'll never be a threat to me so it's nice just to relax and talk with him.

Having a Thanksgiving dinner on Thursday with the girls. Some pumpkin, sweet potatoes, yams, chicken with garlic potatoes...I deserve it after econometrics.