waiting on the sun to set.
it's not my first time here, and i'm not sure there'll be a last. i've had multiple people tell me, with some surprise in their voices, that i go here quite often. That it seems like i'm always here.
the horizon cracks and gives way to golden, rolling hills, each raising and lowering our car alternately, like lazy waves, churning slowly.
can you blame me?
sometimes i think about leaving the bay
and sometimes i think how wrong i'd be to do so.
between breaths i wonder about nothing. the shutter on my camera fails and comes back to life in the same moment.
you live two blocks from here. it's the fourth time i've been by and not said hello. it's just, i'm busy, and you're busy, even though i think we both have time, just that just because i'd do anything with you,
doesn't mean we will.
from beneath the horizon.
if i'd've left this city sooner, i think i'd've grown up faster, watching these things change, swirling around me, just new, new, new, fighting for meaning, rootless changes dying to be made sense of.
instead, i'm watching myself change up close, placed somewhere between these unmoving hills,
feeling myself grow into them as the people come and go.
アイスクリーム above the clouds,