Six weeks back in San Francisco

So, today makes six weeks that I have been back in San Francisco. It feels like I never left in the sense that most of the people I know are doing the same things they were before I moved away - same men, same bars. Around the time I moved back, a friend sent me a note saying, "It's not the same city." I took that to mean that I might be disappointed once I got back. It seems the same to me. Obviously, there are things that have changed. Parts of the city that have been neglected for years, seem to have new life stirring in them. On the flip side, Market Street is in the worst shape I've ever seen it - and that's pretty fucking bad. If you remain here for any length of time, you become tolerant (tolerant of other people's insanity - figuratively and literally) and indifferent (indifferent to shit - figuratively and literally). Heroin use appears to be on the rise again, but perhaps it was never in decline. If it sounds like I'm making a case for regret for returning to San Francisco, I'm not. This city is my home and it always will be.

To no one and to everyone simultaneously

I am fascinated by the act of writing to no one and to everyone simultaneously. At the moment, I have no plans to promote this site. It is a public journal of personal thoughts that no one will probably ever read.

Greetings.