Life is so much easier when I just stay in San Francisco, without having to venture to the outside world where right is wrong, up is down, and the very act of breathing is difficult. I wish that I could carry SF in my pocket during all excursions. Here, wednesdays feel no different than saturdays. When I'm sad, all I have to do is go for a walk to realize that the world is at my fingertips, I am a part of it, and it is still full of beauty. I watch the black woman helping the chinese grandmother onto the bus and think to myself, there's hope for humanity yet. I ride my bicycle between two bridges, dodging tourists along the sparkling blue bay and wonder if I am worthy of this orgasmic 77 degree panorama. Being away from the fresh air of my neighborhood is like leaving behind one of my limbs. I used to travel to many different countries in order to feel alive. Now I get that same feeling by walking down the street to drop my pants off at the tailor. My hemmed pants will be ready in time for my birthday. When I put them on, I will be 27.
3:20 p.m. - 2007-09-27