^ We drank beer, traded stories, bonded, and drowned in the sun.
I left the hideous LAX on the 16th and around an hour later found myself at SFO, the first day of a weeklong experience festival. In short, I got fucking sick of whoring out on news, politics, and over-analyzing the hell out of the recession, Palin, unemployment, Iran, Palin, same sex marriage, Rush Lamebaugh, Obama this and that, Palin, Palin, and Palin, and wanted to counter all that with situations where the last thing I want is to analyze anything.
And I'm not gonna lie. Part of why I went north for a week was to get away from N, who has become clingy and neurotic and I needed some breathing space so to return and be there for her again. I can barely take it anymore, we need to move to the Bay Area so I can have the occasional free time on a weekend while my oldest sister, Y, can be with her. It's maddening to just be out of the house for a few hours but get several calls on my cell phone from N. I can't get away. I feel my being there for her (by choice) is strangling what little life I have for myself.
I took Anais and Silent Hill with me. Because Anais is barely about analyzing and almost all about experiencing, and Silent Hill is existential, psychological, emotional - anything but lyrically intellectual.
The moment I disembarked the plane at the SFO gate I exhaled. It's a different world there, no matter if it's still the same state. It simply just feels different. I made my way down to baggage claim. I absolutely hate checking anything in, that's why I only take my big black backpack and my chocolate pod and carry those onboard. If I had my way I'd take only a book, my phone, and the clothes on me.
I called G at street level. G. We met online and immediately bonded and he is now my good friend. How rare is that today? Then again, G himself is rare. He and I have so much in common - a life's philosophy and standing founded on a mixture of acceptance, curiosity, edginess, mischief, rain, shine, joy, tears, heartbreak, love, loss, curiosity, cynicism, romanticism, sass, pleasure, and joie de vivre. He has stories and so do I. Our tales intersect here and there.
G picked me up outside and we immediately picked up our conversation left off by phone on a previous day. We drove to the Castro for lunch at an Italian place of his choosing. The waiter was sweet, patient, thoughtful. As were the two gentlemen sitting at the table near us. You can tell they've been friends for decades, something I wanted for myself.
After lunch we strolled through the neighbourhood. I love how this city bustles no matter where you are. I feel that people who live here are always, always aware of their immediate sense of place and how it permeates their lives. They come out, see their friends, shop, drink, eat, and make love with that awareness. At G's apartment we sat on the sun drenched deck and steeped ourselves in more conversation over beers. It was so clear and beautiful out. I took a video of the view on my phone.
I felt so at home in the city there. I felt I belonged there in a way I could never belong in Los Angeles.
Los Angeles is sleek. San Francisco has character. And I've been soooo fucking done with sleekness.
And I'm not gonna lie. Part of why I went north for a week was to get away from N, who has become clingy and neurotic and I needed some breathing space so to return and be there for her again. I can barely take it anymore, we need to move to the Bay Area so I can have the occasional free time on a weekend while my oldest sister, Y, can be with her. It's maddening to just be out of the house for a few hours but get several calls on my cell phone from N. I can't get away. I feel my being there for her (by choice) is strangling what little life I have for myself.
I took Anais and Silent Hill with me. Because Anais is barely about analyzing and almost all about experiencing, and Silent Hill is existential, psychological, emotional - anything but lyrically intellectual.
The moment I disembarked the plane at the SFO gate I exhaled. It's a different world there, no matter if it's still the same state. It simply just feels different. I made my way down to baggage claim. I absolutely hate checking anything in, that's why I only take my big black backpack and my chocolate pod and carry those onboard. If I had my way I'd take only a book, my phone, and the clothes on me.
I called G at street level. G. We met online and immediately bonded and he is now my good friend. How rare is that today? Then again, G himself is rare. He and I have so much in common - a life's philosophy and standing founded on a mixture of acceptance, curiosity, edginess, mischief, rain, shine, joy, tears, heartbreak, love, loss, curiosity, cynicism, romanticism, sass, pleasure, and joie de vivre. He has stories and so do I. Our tales intersect here and there.
G picked me up outside and we immediately picked up our conversation left off by phone on a previous day. We drove to the Castro for lunch at an Italian place of his choosing. The waiter was sweet, patient, thoughtful. As were the two gentlemen sitting at the table near us. You can tell they've been friends for decades, something I wanted for myself.
After lunch we strolled through the neighbourhood. I love how this city bustles no matter where you are. I feel that people who live here are always, always aware of their immediate sense of place and how it permeates their lives. They come out, see their friends, shop, drink, eat, and make love with that awareness. At G's apartment we sat on the sun drenched deck and steeped ourselves in more conversation over beers. It was so clear and beautiful out. I took a video of the view on my phone.
I felt so at home in the city there. I felt I belonged there in a way I could never belong in Los Angeles.
Los Angeles is sleek. San Francisco has character. And I've been soooo fucking done with sleekness.
Related:
penninsular desires | a space alien
penninsular desires | a space alien
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1 comment:
aaaah. fantastic, b-boy. i long for somewhere new everyday. each and every day. i have no idea where to even begin to make it possible, but my feet get itchier by the minute.
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