So cold that I'm afraid I'll never be warm again.

Brian Donnelly tells me a rumor he heard about the dormitory phones being controlled by this ancient computer that is guarded by both man and beast in a storage room somewhere. To get there, I have to squeeze into a small space and climb to the very top of some shelves and speak to this Nicodemus-style mouse. He is evasive and senile, but he likes me and wants me to find the secret code to fix everything.

"Turn right and follow the wall."

I'm remembering the end of the world. Marty Crane was there and he had lost his mind. His family decided the best thing for his Alzheimer's was for him to experience again and again the one thing he could remember, which was going to the airport once when he was in his 40s. He repeated it over and over with hundreds of actors and a prop plane.

"I have a crush on this girl who works at a record store, but I've only had the chance to talk to her once. I don't know if she likes me. How can I tell, other than her pushing me into a bathroom stall and climbing on top of me?"

"I don't know. I think that's the only way."

At this super-swank bar in this ultra-modern museum/opera house. A hispanic woman walks up to me and starts saying some smooth shit about the man in the painting behind my booth, something about how a man wearing his ensemble must know a lot about women (or something). It was her come-on line.

Then a man comes with drinks, sits down and says, "You look like a man who likes a couple of blowjobs with his martinis."

I answer, "It depends what's on TV."

The woman stumbles around, spilling her drink.

Marscia is in Kayt's body. I'm consoling her about having to retake a Dragonball Z test (she had to go out of town for a family tragedy). She was afraid people wouldn't understand because it meant she was less than perfect. She kisses me and puts all her weight on me so we drop to the floor. I see a computer monitor with MySpace comments from other people who'd already been there earlier that night, so I know I'm too late to get out.

Non-linear Shakespeare dreams with the girls of MySpace and water balloon fights in the street. The same scenes replay as soon as they end, with me trying to make it perfect. 

People ask me if it's true what other people said in other visions. 

"No reality. It just goes and goes. A huge cast, a big costume/indie rock store in Oregon has a lot to do with it. It starts in a department store in Boston that looks like it's also an airport."

I leave my bag somewhere. The camera tracks by the coat racks very quickly.

It's the beginning of the story, right before the concert.

By the end, everybody will connect.

I just have to do it first.

"Are you sure you don't mean 'absoluteness?'"

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