San Francisco – ‘the white castle’; a beacon of life for white, liberal, vegans; the climate: good; the people: healthy; the knowledge: refined; the wealth: affluent; the food: organic; the better: california.
At the corner of Gilman and sixth – here I am – coffee, wifi, solid progressive dub-step… I am good. Maybe I am better.
Often though… often… I am Triggered! Fucking Triggered… I struggle with this place, these people, their teeth – perfect smiles a reflection of their privileged livilihoods. How should places like Berekeley exist? In the city it is worse. I’ll travel to Noe Valley just to experience the emotional complex of paradox: one moment bliss/peace – the next resentment and anger. I bind myself between worlds. I like it. I am not interested in ‘one’ world. (‘Mono-theism’ met the complexity of conscious evolution many years ago in my psyche.) The reasons for my experience of bliss and peace are clear. Go to Noe Valley and tap in… it’s all there: presine wife’s, beautiful accomplished men, the babies well adorned, the sun shines, the humidity, perfect… old men chat on the side walk, dogs – well groomed. Isn’t the coffee better there anyway? The curious moments are the waves of resenment and anger. I experience the peace of Noe Valley as part of a social asymmetrical relation of access mediated across dimensions of race, class, gender, sex, religion, education, nation, genetics – especially race and class. I have spent time thinking my paradox – living my way through its multilayered expressions.
The problem as I see it: I have spent too much time with poor folk in the Tenderloin District of SF. I have spent to much time learning the why of hippies in the Haight. More specifically: I have conditioned my life to traverse as many experiences of deep resonant social conflict as possible. In my search for zones of reconciliation across worlds divided by race and class, I have assumed multiple identities that generally reject one another – or judge one another.
This is all I can say at this point.