Living in San Francisco Means Continually Dealing with Impermanence.
It means having places you love close up forever. It means having friends get married and move to Oakland. Friends who leave to join the Peace Corps. Friends who go to rehab. Friends who lose their minds. Friends who move back to wherever the fuck they’re from. Friends who OD and never move again. It means dreading the inevitable earthquake that will ultimately wash this city into the sea.
Living in San Francisco means never leaving the house without wearing layers. Having just one wardrobe. Owning lots of hoodies. Owning lots of scarves. Owning lots of hoodies and scarves for your dog. It means having pale legs that get sunburned every time it’s warm out.
Posted on Tuesday May 17th
About me
we stopped in every passing placeto watch the world move
faster than we do
watch it pass with our eyes closed
the way we usually choose to
--idlewild, in remote part/scottish fiction
these are some of the things that made me slow down, take a moment, smile or sigh or laugh or scream or somehow shut off the autopilot so that i might really take notice of the world, or at least one small part of it, before continuing on my way.
things that caught my attention, when i let them.
