looking for housing. preferably, a home.

there's this weird state of disconnect from everyone, everything. i hate the thought of living in a souless, mindless place, and unfortunately that is the impression that i get of the inland empire. but there's no thing nor body keeping me here in the bay. i wander around like a sheet with no feet.

the bay area. the land is me, and i am it, the summer fog that rolls through the gates, the evening sun that flows through the trees. what spills through my veins are cracked pavements and tibetian prayer bells, outraged flyers posted up on telephone poles. i am bleeding hearts and organic gerbera daisies. my life is the rattling bass and the piercing siren.

san gabriel valley is suffocatingly hot, and paved solid with shimmering malls, and outlet malls, and auto malls, and specialty malls, and asian malls. we drove along a highway (57?) where the road overlooked a dam into the basin of a reservoir, and it was lush and green and full of tall brush, a stark contrast to the dry brown hills surrounding. it was almost magical enough to make you forget that the presence of growing things meant there was no more water left inside.

when i told them about my accident, he said, "one day, you'll back on this and laugh." i was so shocked i could only laugh, but i knew what he said was true. one day i know i will look back on this time of my life and only remember the good things. i will have left behind the bruises and sadness, the dark nights, the people who turned their backs or stabbed my own and the people who didn't stick around. hopefully i will remember the innocent promises, the laughs that were shared, and the communities that created me.

i don't want it to be so, but here it is. it is time to forget, and time to move on, and time to rediscover what it means to be.