Friday, August 03, 2007
Goodbye San Francisco...
I had a great life back in San Francisco during the 90's. I had a great job tending bar, a wealth of friends and a veritable spicerack of lovers. (There are advantages to being straight in a gay town.) I also had a great apartment two blocks from the beach with an utterly amazing ocean view for - get this - $350 a month. And there was plenty of parking.
I lived there for six years - the longest I'd ever stayed in one place since childhood.
One night I had a dream that a tsunami had come and destroyed the place: everything I'd owned and accumulated was gone. The dream itself wasn't long, nor with any narrative besides staring at the ruins of the apartment. Unlike the grief we see on TV when people have "lost everything", I found myself filled with a sudden, overwhelming sense of sheer freedom: I could go now... anywhere I wanted.
I'm not one who normally puts a whole lot of psychological or philosophical weight into dreams, but after that night it became practically unbearable to stay where I was. So I quit my job, gave notice to my landlord, sold all my furniture and flew to Asia.
FB - 1284
USA - 1237