A Passage Filled With Silence

Sometimes you think someone enters your life to serve as a catalyst for something specific - something that you've been looking for. But instead, they act as mirror, reflecting yourself back at you in all it's morning glory. They act as a way to compare the past, and to illustrate how far you've come from the tropes you have yet to shed, despite the fact that they hang loose and translucent around your arms. And it comes round to bite you that what you've been looking for (and, of course, what you've found) is not at all what you need.

It would be so easy to ignore the red flags popping up like roses, thorns exposed. People do it all the time, right? They fall into old patterns and settle for right-now instead of forging ahead. Life is hard, let's just make it easy.

But I can't settle. Not when there are so many cities to explore, not when my life is laid out in front of me like so many empty highway horizons.

What's the difference between "being humble" and "having humility"?

Sometimes it's nice to take a day to wander around alone. It's even nicer if it just happens to be the day that a free concert has descended upon Golden Gate Park.

I spent the first few hours of the day feeling neglected because all the people who had mentioned Hardly Strictly were bailing on me. It wasn't until I was crossing the bike path in the panhandle that I realized that it was actually a really fucking awesome thing that I was cruising solo for the day.

I don't think I've had an evening or an afternoon to myself since maybe even before my return from New York. One candle, two ends and whatnot. It's nice to woolgather and be introspective when surrounded by thousands of people.

And BTW? What's up with the Mission being the new home for Marina douchebags who know nothing about this city? I've decided that the Panhandle is my fucking hood. For a while. Sure, it's a bit mid-90's gentrification meets Haight Street hobo-chic. But what the fuck, man. Don't hate on that shit. It's better than slumming it yuppies hanging at 16th and Mission or 6th and Brannan. Recession my ass, dickbags. Go tell your dad to stop running that Ponzi scheme.

Sometimes it's nice to just take a minute and reflect on shit. Preferably while staring out of a muni bus while the sun glints off of the windows of the passing houses. And sometimes it's nice to realize that you maybe just want to settle into someone else's shoulder for a few minutes. And it's ALWAYS nice to realize that the desire to do the above is just as satisfying as actually doing them. Wistfulness can be the language of poets.

Long story short - rediscovering your inner hermit can be super fulfilling. Recharge the batteries and all those other cheesy metaphors. Go do it now, gentle readers.