Tim was a very nice kid from the animation department of my art school. He came from a pretty well-to-do family in Michigan, had connections in the school we were going to and didn't pay much or anything at all in tuition. Jim's appearance was really difficult ascertain, and not in an unconventional hipster art school uniform sort of way, he was a pastiche of that uniform and it was a complete contrast of being a Midwestern transplant going to school/living in Philly. He'd wear loafers, bandanas tied around his neck, a mustache. Basically a village person in 2012, who was 19-20.

I got to know him some more through our classes together. He'd go to a church group once a week and mass on Sundays. He tried to get me to go to his class on more than once occasion. He'd occasionally slip out a, "I'll keep you in prayers tonight, zvxxvz." if I was in a bummer or something. Eventually, we'd work together on a group project and this is where I got to see a side of Jim that I doubt some of my classmates have ever seen.

Step into his apartment, which is in West Philly. It's a far cry from what it probably was 10-20 years ago, much to do with the homegrown community allowing Jim to gentrify with his nice things, but it's still somewhere you wouldn't to overextend your welcome if you don't look the part. Here's Jim with his fixie and bandana tied around his neck showing me his cool, "super cheap, we only pay $600 a month", apartment that 2 other dorks were splitting the rent with him. We need to do some editing on our project, so we need to use his computer in his room. We go up the stairs to his room and it's completely bare. Except for one thing.

An adult sized crib.

Oh, and a crucifix on the wall.

Weirded out, I just tell him to bring his laptop down to the living room

Everything started to make more sense after that night. Or less, I don't even know anymore.