Not sad, pity me, lonely, alone.Just physically, by myself.
Because finals are over and school is out and no one else at my flowery school has a job to keep them here.
And the majority of them miss their bright and shiny LA.
Because finals are over and school is out and no one else at my flowery school has a job to keep them here.
And the majority of them miss their bright and shiny LA.
But, in all honesty, they’re the ones missing out.
San Francisco at this time is probably the greatest thing I have ever experienced.
(Minus the tourists that come into work and wait 4 HOURS to get a slice of cheesecake…You can’t ever satisfy a hungry family of 6 from Kansas who just bought $300 worth of shoes at Sketchers.)
It’s not like any one thing has changed. It’s the feeling of the city that has changed.
It’s kind of like that feeling when you get actual mail, in your actual mailbox, and it’s not another meaningless postcard from the college you know deep down you should have attended
Kind of like the feeling when that guy you’ve casually been obsessed with since the beginning of time, actually wants to hang out.
Kind of like that feeling when you have tacos that satisfy every craving ever.
Kind of like when you finish that awful book and can finally let go of all the heavy words and breathe.
Kind of like when the homeless man making his own art on the street corner looks up at you with that not so frequent sparkle in his eye, after saying his paintings looked (hella) rad.
Kind of like that feeling when you’re drinking a warm latte on a park bench, looking up at the city skyline, getting almost too emotional about how damn pretty it is.
Or really– it’s like that one very seldom feeling, when you’re in a place, at a certain time, not really doing anything at all, and your entire being is just content.
That’s what San Francisco feels like right now.
Bright and shiny and good.
Being alone is great.
