no , i 'm thinking about how little i feel in this absurdly immense chair , and i 'm thinking about the fake id warming up jane austen 's pages , and i 'm thinking about whether i 'm more mad at tiny or in awe of him , and thinking about friday , steering clear of tiny in the mosh pit as he tries to dance like everyone else , and the heat turned on too high in the club and everyone sweating through their clothes and the music so uptempo and goose bumps that i do n't even care what they 're singing about .