Dale in San Francisco

the wild parrots of dolores st. squawk as i walk by.  ringing in my ears the sounds of memories, eating me alive in my new home.  i feel so far away and yet i see what is real in people all around me.  i still cannot see what is real in me.  i miss you and i don’t.  i love you yet finally i am standing on my own, starting anew.  and no one can tell me now what to think or feel.  no one can tell me which way to turn.  and for once in my life, for the first time in my life no one is judging me.  no one is watching to see if i fuck up.  i am, for the first time in my life, not judging myself, but letting myself live.  i can breathe now, it is easier.  i see myself now through stranger’s eyes.  a competent young woman of the nineties.  i am destined to be great, to do things, and i know people see that in me, the way i am.  everything i need to become.

me, on the subway.  who’da thunk it right?  not even taylor could have seen me this way.  i wish he had seen me before he left.  now i have a hangover, and i haven’t even slept yet.  i am exhausted, but i’m enjoying my high.  i need weed, and i still haven’t found my connection.