I've had a rather entertaining morning
I just had what I would qualify as a rather cool experience. I feel I might just want to write about it, and write here, what's more, to you. I thought of calling Cat, as I really wanted to tell somebody – and that'd work well if only the office kitchen was a tad more sound proof. Cat is also busy, I'd say, as she's an important woman, and she doesn't even have arms! 

My story begins as I hurriedly stomp towards the underground level of the train station. The station is Roma St, and I am running late, early, or both. I have around two hours to get to Kelvin Grove for a meeting: this is not my drama. I require a document; a document I consider to be unwritten. 

I trundle from train platform nine, through the electronic turnstiles and escalate upward towards bus platform two. As I complete my escalation, I note something. Something out of the ordinary; something out of place. It's about the size of a business card but with a girth equal to something weightier. It looks used. Why does it look used? It's got a picture of John F. Kennedy on the front of it. John is safely stowed under a repeated layer of sticky tape running in strips of the standard size across the width of the cover. 

I pick it up. It's a persons diary, a tiny book of maybe 100 pages, some of them used. On the inside cover are the tell-tale marks of ownership: 
A Name: Joseph H Alexander (all in caps)
An Address: Ashgrove (and more)
A Telephone number: 0401 ... ... 

And so, as I flick towards the 17th of March, I get to thinking about how I'd like something of this nature returned. I'd probably want it back today, if I used this wee bound ledger as much as Joseph H Alexander has. There's nothing on today for Joseph, I know this because the space for the 17th of March is empty. The day before though, that's Monday the 16th of March, Joseph did have a Futurism assignment due. Futurism doesn't look too serious as it's written in a legible hand, whereas WORK, on Thursday from 2:30pm until 6:00pm, is in a rather larger, more capitalised, black hand. Joseph H Alexander is a university student on his way to Kelvin Grove. He's studying without his precious time and date keeper; I wonder if he even realises he's lost his memory. I wonder if he's at this bus stop, waiting impatiently, thinking about Futurism and WORK, but I don't think so. 

I write Joseph a message I might like to receive had I a Futurism assignment due on a Monday; an assignment that probably wasn't so tough. Joseph H Alexander is a working man too, so I am sure to state my case clearly as he will probably not accept any nonsense. He is likely a very serious young man indeed. It takes me three messages’ worth of letters, but that's OK as I am on a mission of the highest karma. I send my letters all at once and my phone beeps. 

I write: "Hi there you don't know me but i know you joseph h alexander. I know you though the little diary you dropped this morning, the one you dropped while catching a bus, the one you dropped with kennedy taped to the cover. I'd like to meet you joseph h alexander, i'd like to meet you and give you back your tiny book. my name is richard and i am at qut kg until 2:30pm" 

And I don't put a full stop because I am out of letters. I also spell the word 'through' wrong in the second sentence by leaving out the ‘r’, and I feel silly. I hope Joseph isn't perturbed. 

I reach my office and sit down at my desk. I switch on my computer and the fan whizzes up to full noise level. I open my window as it's freezing inside (this is normal though, so I just go through the motions). I open up my laptop and switch it on too, it has no detectable fans or whizzing. My phone beeps, and I know Joseph H Alexander has responded to my note. 

He writes: "Hello richard sender of mysterious messages. I did indeed drop my diary this morning. I start work at 2 30 close to kg do you have a chance to meet me before then my dear friend. Signed joseph h for hilton alexander." 

He puts a full stop because he is a professional and not out of letters. I am pleased: we have a game now, my dear friend Joseph has thought to respond in the vein, and even supplies me with Hilton! 

I am confused though; Joseph has to work at 2:30pm. It is not in his diary and I think that an oversight so I write it there for him, but then I rub it out because that is intrusive and he probably has a good reason for working covertly. 

I respond: "In fact I do! I have a meeting until 1pm and am free thereafter. I am new to this campus and maps confuse me, fortunately. Are you happy to meet at the refec?" 

I think I should call him ‘friend’, but I am perhaps timid in this case and so I do not. 

Joseph Hilton Alexander replies that he is not sure what block that is, and does not think he has visited it before. Before I can reply he sends an addendum: he knows it is the food court now, and asks for confirmation. 

I confirm, and we have a meet set up: "Yes Indeedy! Now i brought a t-shirt recently because it was seriously discounted, i'm wearing it today, it's a weak red and is over branded with an atari logo." 

Joseph lets me know he is wearing a green shirt with ‘Illinois’ written on the front of it, which he tells me will be explained later. I am not sure if the state of Illinois requires explanation, but perhaps he is an American. I know some very clever Americans so I think this is OK. 

I have my meeting with my unwritten document and, eventually, Marcus (that's my principle PhD supervisor). He leaves; he needs to have a shot in his arm to protect his body from the flu. I think this is sensible, as does Marcus, though he admits that he hates (or as Joseph might say, 'HATES') needles.

Joseph Hilton Alexander is early. I should have foreseen this and am running five minutes late! I dash up a very tall hill that is in my way and then, having surmounted the division, I stroll casually into the refec with a can of warming Sprite that I am half the way through. 

I spot Joseph after a moment or two of gormlessly searching about, though I expect he saw me first. 

Joseph is not tall but we are nearly of even height. He has calm blonde hair, slightly darker than your average blonde, and he's wearing it in the style of his age, which, as it turns out, is 17. He has strong blue eyes and not a gram of fat on him, I notice this because when he smiles too much I can see the outline of a vein in his forehead. His skin is clear and his complexion shows he's seen sun recently. I suspect he lives at home still, as his clothes are very clean and not at all like the usual first year out of home. 

Joseph is quite pleased to have his diary back, and enquires as to whether I appreciate John F. Kennedy. I let him know I do, and in return query him on his choice: apparently John was lying around after having been photocopied. It all makes sense, and Joseph is not American – though he did live in Malaysia for four years. 

Joseph is very eager to talk after such a prelude. Admittedly I am too and, after some time, he explains ‘Illinois’, which is actually merchandise from a band named "Sufjan Stevens". Joseph writes that down for me. 

We talk some more and end up walking towards the bus together. I like Joseph and he liked my messages and is quite keen for us to meet again. I appreciate this and feel humbled by his honesty. We agree to talk more in the coming week, and decide to take advantage of the free pool on Mondays at the Guild Bar. 

We say our goodbyes and Joseph Hilton Alexander is dragged away by a friend towards the bus. 

I made a friend today and all I did was write a silly text message... Maybe I should start dropping diaries.