Can you hear the sound of machines all breaking down?

I wonder if there is an afterlife (which I believe there is) do our loved ones from there think it's ridiculous that we hold on to silly, trivial material things in their memory. Today I threw away my roommate, Daniel's, empty bottle of conditioner and apologized to him as I did so. He died in September, since then there's just been an empty bottle of conditioner taking up space in the bathroom. I can't help but think it to be the most ridiculous thing I've done, to apologize to the air for throwing it away. I guess it's different from the 24 karat gold pen set that my dad gave me to write my first novel with, or the typewiter that belonged to him and I'm sure he'd be happy that I hold those things so close. But, seriously, bottle of conditioner. I feel silly for even analyzing it so much.

I went to the San Francisco Zoo today for my anthropology class. This is the first time I'm taking an anthroplogy class and two months into it, I'm finally interested. We watched the Lemurs which really are spectacular creatures, the way they jump and are affectionate toward one another. One started barking and then the rest of them followed. Why can't we be more like those that we evolved from? Why is there no sense of community in the Human world? Lemurs don't care what color they are, they don't care if they're holding hands with a male or a female. They love each other and they don't care who knows it. It truly is wonderful to see but kind of terrifying that humans can't do the same.

I took the M-Ocean View to Church and Market today and then took the 22-Fillmore to Fillmore and California. I sat in a Peet's with my laptop, sipping on the same medium Mocha Freddo and working pretty intently on this story while listenening to music for 3 hours. It felt great. I got 4 pages written in a really tiny font and I'm really proud of what I wrote. I sent it off for my old Creative Writing professor to read. Hopefully he'll have some positive and constructive feedback. It's a really wonderfully empowering feeling to know that I have something that can never be taken away--my writing. I love that. I love that I can do that.