back to writing things
for the last five years, the lowercase blog has been a suspiciously public dumping ground for my thoughts, feelings and realizations, my on-again off-again fling with poetry, philosophy and self-expression. when this all started, i was a very simple human being. it's fun to reflect.
this next part is a little throwback to the reverent beginnings of this thoroughly anti-capitalist endeavor. when my english teacher gave an enthused speech on the joys of blogging, i jumped on the idea. "three beautiful things," which i pirated from instructor raymond pert's kellogg bloggin',was the original format for this blog in 2008.
three beautiful things (9/10/2013)
when i was 16, i worked flipping burgers at a gas station restaurant. one day i ran into a couple of filthy and smelly young adults huddled on the sidewalk out front. while i helped them find some cardboard for a sign, they explained to me how to jump onto moving trains with two heavy backpacks, a guitar and a violin. intrigued, i started hitching to work, school and eventually distant cities. i started hearing trains...
years later on the streets of san francisco, emotions blindsided me as i tried to cope with debilitating nausea and the fear of another cold, wakeful night. i huddled an all-night diner escaping the cold until the snappy waitress, mistook me for spun and threw my money back on the table. she told me to leave, and i stepped out into the chilly streets. there were old victorian-style rowhouses disappearing in the fog. i took an awe-inspired breath...
my arrival at haight-ashbury loosened my mood considerably. still desperate for a blanket, i started befriending the street kids. some said 'go up in the park.' others hung around and tried to score pizza or warm place to sleep. suddenly, everyone was gone, out to crash in some van nearby. i shivered, slowly shuffling down the haight in half-despair.
on the right there were kids on a porch, drinking and having fun. no, they didn't have a blanket. but why didn't i hang out for a few minutes? soon i was cozy and safe, chewing warm and delicious food on my very own couch. there was kindness on my hosts' dreadlock-framed faces. why shouldn't they look out for me? we were all humans after all...