Commuting by train can be more intense than commuting by car, I think. The car is probably more stressful, but the train lets you venture far deeper into your own head. And this can be scary. It’s not always for fear of boredom that we blast iPods and read AM New York between home and work. It’s for fear of what’s in the head.
Some guy last week was not afraid. He stood with a pad of paper pressed against the door, writing furiously, but all I could make out was the title:
“Death Note, Part II”
Part II? What happened in Part I? And what if he had said “Take II”, instead of “Part II”? That would have meant it was a suicide note, presumably being written after a failed first attempt, right? Christ. “Part”, I hope, is more harmless, but it’s also much more confusing. What is there to say about the second part of death?
I really did just ask that, and meant it. Tomorrow I will remember that the second part of death is something humans have been thinking about for approximately ever, and that probably many of our answers have been interesting.
Today it just seems like a stupid question.