Sure I say, of course, simple.
Of course, I catch the 71 to 25th, instead of 19th. 12 blocks later, at 19th, wrong side of road. Shit which direction do cars come from? How do I cross roads here? Done. Now when’s this Muni? Oh, now. Looking for California, Remember ‘out @ California’….Shit out where? Geery? Hmm don’t think so.. sit it out….California, Ah, yes, Stop Requested.
Out I get, happy I found the street, race to a Muni Map, and I “locate” myself as on 25th. Crossing to 27th, I’m realizing I’m actually on 14th. Another map now grounds me at 14th, in god knows where in the world, never been here. At least the numbers make sense, I guess I can make it. I feel safe, looks OK. 13 blocks later “it’s open”.
A total of 25 blocks off course, on the night when I had 25 days left in the country, in my 25th year. I feel like the night even with the fucked-up-ness of it all, and the space that it generated through acceptance/resignation to my seeming nature, was a form of thanks to be able to be living that, and to have such strong culture and inclusion, sharing, and community, feeling really deep in my heart. The beauty of some of them. I saw, I felt, I hear, but at the same time I did nothing at all, flow was all, the universe talking to degrees of the universe, the dance was clear.