the gay pride parade in sf was an experience. i yelled my way to euphoria for bikers and scarred cancer victims and friends supporting their gay friends, and i went home with a mini-frisbie and a condom.
chuck said that there's yerba mate in the mission district, but we stopped in a few markets and we couldn't find any, altho we did find the great salsa i brought back from costa rica.
i discovered the roof of our apartment building... a small expanse of tar paper with a forgotten loveseat and coffee table and sun sun sun. i sat up there and basked and peered off at the bay before letting my head fall back again. there's some nerve in the back of my neck that makes me almost want to sneeze, and also produces this wonderful momentary buzz kiss sensation. i think i'll go up there often to read and get away from the music. to relax, alone and peaceful, maybe get back in touch with heart and mind. like a cat or a hawk, not so much to survey as to feel the wind and put the fray below, take it off like a dirty sock and leave it on the floor. then when the sun is gone go back down into the rich craziness of nighttime and artificial lights streaming or flames rising and see it all as something new, be with my friends and laugh, get drowsy and fall asleep.
06.25 | june | 06.30