Satalites are a sign we arent supposed to be here. I feel the drops of water on the iron rod and tighten my fist. Hood up, nows a good time not to slip. But those fears evade me.
You can tell with the lack of hesitation in which I turned the door knop. There wasnt supposed to be a 33rd floor. Its not my fault, they were asking for it when they said we couldnt ride the glass elavator.
Oh we rode that elavator. And we didnt stop there. #2. Cameras facing it made me wonder what they had to hide. A red door stenciled with the warning “do not open: burgular alarm”. I challenged that, and with a twist of the wrist was on top of the world.
My eyes opened as they closed. The sounds and lights never end in San Fransisco. The faint voices and hum of traffic carries even to the 12th floor. Bagels and cream cheese, empowering amd rooting conversations ring in my mind from the morning as I take on this city. One step at a time, it all feels conquerable. The leaves peek out from the wooden starcase. They shrink in the horizon. Up, up, up, tropical awasis of flowers and tiny wooden paths. We all fight for the skyline, each house higher than the last. My grandparents are reminded of their age, as they pretend not to be tired. I love them more for it. Shadows and sunshine, taking turns on our faces. We can almost see the city now. We can almost see it all. The best view wasnt at the top of the tower, it wasnt the view you waited in line for and paod $5 to see. A silloutte over a city, silver car waiting for us to finish, the search has just begun.
home screen. tap tap. instagram. scroll scroll. home button. tap tap. the next snapchat. stories. hold. release. over and over.
Why do I find so much satisfaction in this mindless task? Is it some form of false connection that I’m craving. Maybe its the perpetual training of my hands to navigate to those places. Maybe it has to do with my turning to social media whenever I want to be distracted or curb my anxiety.
Well it has to stop. I am battling with an addiction to my phone. No meaning, nothing to check, but hours pass as my retinas burn from staring into the tiny screen.
Reality is all around me. There is so much to learn, to explore, to acheive, to clean, to be happy, sad about, to experience, yet my identity is severed by this network ambillical chord.
Glass beach near Fort Bragg used to be legendary, but as it became more and more popular, people would come, take bags of glass, and leave. Now if you go- there might be a few patches of glass left, but that wont last long and the beach is far from covered.
The waves crashing onto a relatively undiscovered beach reminded me why humans are such destroyers. My friend filled her pockets and backpack with the beauty that layed beneath my toes. “It will soon all be gone” I said aloud, trying to challenge her to realize what it meant to take away the gems of this beach. Beach combers had a new meaning for me today, as a woman sat combing a circle around her, with her eyes inches away, closely examining the sand. People find it, and exploit it, and them its just another glass beach story.
We talked about the business and certification of “organic” food and being self sustainable and able to cook. We talked about women empowerment and expectations. We shared stories about adventures and characters we knew. I observed and learned.
Mariah is a character I havent stereotyped before in my mind. At first she seemed very closed minded. She lectures people on how they shouldnt die their hair, or eat certain food, etc. I challenged her indirectly with a question about right and wrong, I said “I dont think theres any such thing as right ans wrong- I think theres only simple and less simple.” if your thought process is intelligent and rational, then it is complex, your own, and valid. I said this to introduce the concept of cultural relativism and how we cannot assert ourselves as having the right definition of morals because other cultures think they have the right definition too. But later she talked about her determination and motivation to do things, and her moral stubborness was a huge force in her life. She makes her own bread from scratch, as well as shampoo and conditioner, and just about everything else she can on her own. I admire that.
She also introduced a really interesting concept of time to me. We only know certain feelings because thats all we have experienced. So we cannot know to look for things we have not experienced. Thats why often people think they need an old relationship because thats all they know. This was very wise and open minded of her. I am baffled by this character and want to include her in a story.
Sierra is down for adventures, and I think we are going to be good friends.