You know, it's scary when you first get an apartment or a house and move in and get weird vibes. Like, my bathtub in this apartment for example. I think someone died in it once. I don't know why I think this. There is no tangible reason.

Kind of like stains on the carpet. I could say occassionaly, "Dude, your sitting on my vomit stain.. that was tequilla and bile! Landed there last summer and hasn't all left quite yet."

Except that when you move into a new place, there is no one to TELL you what those stains and strange fingernail-like marks are on the walls.

Perhaps.. perhaps.. I should stop thinking about the history of buildings and apartments, and Rosie's Cafe, where someone really did kill themselves in the back. It was supposedly a hanging. I eat there sometimes for lunch.