me and Peter Krause, baby
Aug. 2nd, 2001 04:15 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sabYeah, I fear death.
This is just a quick -- because I forgot I had this horrifying experience on the train tonight. we stopped under the river, which happens, I mean, all the time, but for some reason, I knew, I just knew I was going to die. We were all going to die there, in that crowded train car full of malcontent Brooklynites all reading A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genuis and comparing tattoos, dead dead dead. I imagined tomorrow's headlines.
I wasn't sure how it was going to happen, but I stood tall anyway, in case the river came in, until I realized the rail was there and if the water came we'd be electrocuted first, all of us holding those metal bars and balancing, doing the subway dance.
I walked forward a little, though I didn't know where I was going. My heart raced. I wanted to get up front, maybe, talk to the conductor, explain that we HAD to move, we HAD to, we were all going to DIE here...
usually, like when I get on a plane, I'll look around first at the other passengers, size up the ones who look together and smart and sturdy, plot the shortest course to get to them in the event of a disaster, have them take care of me. I figure out who can be cast aside, I hatch an escape plan.
no escape plan on a crowded subway car, under the East River. no way out.
me and Peter Krause, baby, freaking out about death (cf. last week's Six Feet Under).
scared, but when I got home I had Hawkeye, and Shana might make me make a list.
This is just a quick -- because I forgot I had this horrifying experience on the train tonight. we stopped under the river, which happens, I mean, all the time, but for some reason, I knew, I just knew I was going to die. We were all going to die there, in that crowded train car full of malcontent Brooklynites all reading A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genuis and comparing tattoos, dead dead dead. I imagined tomorrow's headlines.
I wasn't sure how it was going to happen, but I stood tall anyway, in case the river came in, until I realized the rail was there and if the water came we'd be electrocuted first, all of us holding those metal bars and balancing, doing the subway dance.
I walked forward a little, though I didn't know where I was going. My heart raced. I wanted to get up front, maybe, talk to the conductor, explain that we HAD to move, we HAD to, we were all going to DIE here...
usually, like when I get on a plane, I'll look around first at the other passengers, size up the ones who look together and smart and sturdy, plot the shortest course to get to them in the event of a disaster, have them take care of me. I figure out who can be cast aside, I hatch an escape plan.
no escape plan on a crowded subway car, under the East River. no way out.
me and Peter Krause, baby, freaking out about death (cf. last week's Six Feet Under).
scared, but when I got home I had Hawkeye, and Shana might make me make a list.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
strange acquaintances...
Date: 2001-08-03 07:06 pm (UTC)you have a very interesting journal, and you write well. thought i'd share my thought. i had the good luck to come across your page on a random search...
thanks for giving me hope that people out there do have thoughts running through their minds, other than lattes and prozac...