Sep.12 Thunder! Lightning! in San Francisco!!

Somedays it saddens me to think of how many people around us strive for a life full of fame, fortune, status or whatever it may be that society deems worthy. I wonder if they can feel the warmth of the sun on a indian summers day or the crisp air of the fog rolling over the bay? Do they appreciate it? Do I?

I do not claim fame, fortune or status nor do these things keep absent from my mind. I can say that I am included because I am a product of my society, of which I fight on a daily basis. But today there was thunder and lightning in San Francisco and when I stepped out my back door the fresh scent of the light rain perched upon the green leaves of the courtyard magnolia tree induced a high that the best California weed could never produce. This feeling, "this high" is what I long for. Inspiration!

cAlifornication

Its a dreary Saturday in San Francisco California. As I walk along Polk street my eyes behold the colorful mixup of degenerates begging for change, the occasional glamrock princess in gold spandex, the "hipster" defecating an intoxicated philosophy, the wannabe singer-songwriters and rock stars vomiting so called sexual vitality all over the sidewalks, right where it belongs with the shit and piss of the homeless.

One such singer-songwriter, a loner, lives two blocks from my middle class apartment in Nob Hill. This 42 year old boy, I once admired has made it very clear to me what money and self-loathing can do to a man. His words mean nothing. He sings of lost love that was never love at all, and of romance that is only a figment of his imagination. Doors Locked and one hand down the front of his pants, a 23 year old blonde girl has to make her escape from his closed off sanctuary of antiques, oddities, and perversion. I sit here, drink my coffee and digress of how happy I am that I am not that man; lonely and empty, trapped in his own prison, built by his own two hands, a foundation laid by his very lyrics that make him "known."

Home sweet home

Cape Girardeau Missouri, what a place! As far as I can remember our tattered home on the corner with its faded paint, chipped siding, roach infested corners,rat haven basement and haunted attic was a vital part of my childhood.
Like a long, lost, first love trapped in my soul, I still think and even dream about that house. Many of my fondest and most innocent memories from that time have been etched into the fabric of my being. The old saying goes, "if these walls could only talk". Oh! and they would, as if they absorbed every single breath, action, thought and dream! My life would not be the same without those walls.
When i close my eyes I don't see the rats, the roaches or the faded paint. I see an infinite image of a little blonde headed boy with a huge smile stretched across his face, holding the rest of life in the palm of his hands. With the entire world eagerly awaiting his strength and vitality as a whole and compassionate man. He has no pain, no suffering, no worries or responsibilities. What he has is magical and serene. He has his tricycle and the sidewalk paved in front of him.

shallow inspiration for shallow hearts

Thrust me into oblivion! This thought, often conjures in the forefront of my mind on a daily basis when encountering the sea of countless selfish individuals across the coffee counter where I earn my living, if you can call it that. Lets just say, it pays the bills.

Today I had the pleasure of encountering one of these absolutely pleasant "humans." Humans in quotations because I am not completely sure I can justify actually referring to this woman as being anything close to that, but I'll let you be the judge.

Her name I do not know, so for lack of a better description lets just refer to her as Consumer Whore.

Consumer Whore, third back in line yells up to me. "Can I get an iced americano in less than two minutes?"

Barista replies somewhat annoyed "I don't know!"

Consumer Whore."Well I guess we will just have to see then won't we?"

Barista."I guess so!!"

What the Barista was thinking"Why dont you go pray about it, come back tomorrow and tell me what you find out...... Bitch!!"

Writing this out, I laugh to myself, but where does it end, when was it that a barista was reduced to the likes of a robot instead of a counterpart. Society cries hope, freedom, equal rights while swiftly contradicting themselves at every turn. I am not angry. I feel pity for all the children that have to grow up in these disillusioned "united states of america"

America has and always will be a destination for thousands, millions, maybe more. It is a country filledwith, entrepreneurship, legacy, fame and fortune. And we cant forget the meth or

porn, just to name a few. Yes! America has much to offer and i understand why one would

seek it out, after all I am included, I live in San Francisco California and I adore it....most of the time.