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November 23, 2007
Someone looks at you— you think there must be a reason. Walk down a street and some guy is staring you right in the eye, is it odd to think that might be personal? But it probably isn’t.

Even knowing that, i can’t help but think this girl across the aisle from me (back on the bus, back home), sees something i don’t. Do i have something stuck to my face? Am i too ugly? Am i familiar?

She’s probably just looking at the miles slipping by outside the window behind me; passing the time by looking through my face.