san francisco (ii)

man. i was @ berkeley today and i was up the tenth floor of Evans? looking west?

oh god

SF shrouded in fog.

looking at it, i was INSPIRED. i wanted to write bad poetry. i wanted to write prose and novels about SF. i kept thinking, 'yeah. looking at it, you understand why people say, this is it. this is the city you'll love for the rest of your life.'

course, no one says that, except me.

god, i love it. PASSIONATELY. divine love, baby. that kind people feel for their gods, that makes 'em want to cry and laugh all at once, the kind that grabs 'em by the heartstrings and tugs. that's what it is. looking at san francisco, white and utterly ablaze, luminous in the fog that catches the afternoon sun, i wanna curve in on myself to keep from splitting apart because it's - too - much. it's so beautiful it hurts.

i wish you could know what it feels like, to drive up from somewhere down south. that feeling you get when you get past the mountains north of LA, wind out from that last turn in the freeway and see the endless expanse of the central valley spread out before you, where you can set the cruise control on 80 and pop the CDs out for the long straight drive ahead - and you see it. you see it on the road signs.

North Interstate 5.

SAN FRANCISCO.

oh god, the feeling. the FREEDOM of it. you're flying. you want to shout it at the top of your lungs: INTERSTATE 5. NORTHBOUND. SAN FRANCISCO. you're driving and the road is flying by and your tunes are blasting and it's early afternoon and it's hot and bright and wonderful, and you know it, like in your bones and your blood. you know you're going back to san francisco, the great city by the bay, the city you love. you know you'll be there just in time to swing around those mountains and see it, shining in the evening.

i'm totally overcome. hahah. thinking of it, i mean? i'm just TOTALLY overcome. it's like you're going home to your girlfriend or something, only even more so. i can't believe how much i love it. heh. i sound stupid, but it's true.

i look at it and i know it: this is the city i'll love for the rest of my life. it's almost like an ending, a finality. there are bigger cities, richer cities, brighter cities, cities with more history. but nothing will top this city, ever. wherever i go, i'll remember the mrs. fields in the financial district, the palace of fine arts in the shadow of the bridge, the hills and the cable cars and the pigeons and the blue skies. and the way it looks in the afternoon, in the fog, ablaze with light.