2003-05-22 - 5:40 p.m.

The ongoing adventure for spacial satisfaction has hit a low point. I do not welcome affection. I discreetly fold my arms around myself to showcase the love of have for myself. Why do you need to steal my sense of space?

Get your hands, arms, legs and face off me!

All of the elements in the 3 square feet around me belong to me. Do not attempt to breath my air or look in my direction.

How can I make you go away?

You seem to enjoy touching me, but I cannot stand the sight of you. If everyone felt this strongly about space the entire country would be filled out from sea to sea.

Why do I always ride this bus?

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