I’m in my dad’s office of the house I grew up in. I came back to visit for a few days because my rents are in tha process of fixing up their house so they can move intae one thar havin built fer them in Buffalo, NY. (Note: My father is from Buffalo n much of his family is still thar – hence movin TO Buffalo). It was sort of a spur-of-tha-moment decision…basically ah realized that my last chance ta see this place before it’s gone is whenevah ah make it happen.
It’s fucking weird. Ah admit – ah don’t really like this feelin. Partially ah think ah didn’t give myself enuff time here – altho what would anutha day er two actually have done? Part of it is also that ahve been so busy since ah landed (intentional) visitin w. friends (pics from a rawkin party ta come). So who knows if ahd be able ta come ta terms with this in a bettah way if ahd been here more. Ah sorta doubt it – especially w.o a bass here ta write with.
But man, it’s hit me. Ahm nawt even sure whar exactly its hit, but it has. My oldest friend came ovah earlier, n we went out ta dinnah w. my folks, which was great. Then he came back n showed me facebook photos from tha 10 year high skool reunion ah didn’t even git an invite fer (but certainly wouldn’t have come back here for), which was interesting, altho nawt especially nostalgic – almost none of tha folks ah would be really interestin in connectin w. were thar, n plenty of them that ah had nae interest in were.
Howevah, tha second he left, thar was nae more distractions. Ahm lookin at tha hallways of my childhood rite now – freshly painted n void of tha pictures ah remembah growin up with. Thars a single box of stuff that ah didn’t take ta SF w. me in my closet – my room also freshly painted a nice bright color ah nevah would’ve chosen. Ah went thru that box a lil bit – old heavy metal t-shirts, SUUSI mug books. high skool yearbooks, n a photo album my mom put togetha fer me a few years back.
Tha photo album was hard man. Ah hate lookin at pictures ah know ahm in n nawt bein able ta find me. But seein tha walls of this house in all tha backgrounds – seein how happy ah was in many of those pics – relivin certain faded memories n piecin togetha othas – that was hard. Ah can’t remembah tha last time ah cried that much – n ah certainly can’t remembah tha last time ah cried this much without bein able ta articulate what it was ah was cryin about.
It’s nawt just tha house – ah mean, yeah, thas part of it. But ahm really sayin goodbye ta this area, this part of my life. But this is the part of my life. Yeah, ah spent 4 years in bawstan, a few months in Australia, n have been out west fer a couple years. Compare that to tha house ah grew up in, tha house ah returned to time n time again, its nawt much. Further compare that to tha life (lives!) ah created out here, it’s naethang. This area, fer bettah er worse, is who ah am, er at least who ah was. Tha world ah lived in out here defined me, continues to dae so, will always be my hometown.
Ah think thas what it is – without this place ta come home to, who am ah? That seems trite to write, but if ahm nawt whar ah came from, ah hafta be whar ahm gaein. N ah don’t know whar ahm gaein. Ah have some ideas, n ah like/love whar ahm at most of tha time, but tha long-term plans, tha next step, it’s just nawt thar.
That scares tha shite outta me. Ahve been spendin so much time makin sure tha life ah was actively livin was one ah want, ah haven’t had my sights set on tha future in a while. It’s like once ah gawt intae SF, ah stopped plannin – n that was somewhat intentional. But ahm losin my roots, ahm losin tha connection to whar ah came from, n it’s frightening.
Especially b/c ahm nawt gawna regain them. Visitin w. old friends out here is amazin – but many of them won’t be here much longah anyway (Which is good fer them). N ah couldn’t move back here even if ah wanted. Tha scenes that have been created, er at least that my old cohorts have been recruited fer, aren’t mine. Ah don’t want them ta be. It’s nawt just b/c ah ken be a snob er suspicious of new thangs – it’s b/c they don’t represent who er what ah want ta be. So what daes?
Ah love San Francisco. Ah love my day-ta-day fer tha most part out thar. Ah cherish tha good friends ah have made out thar (tha few of them). Ah dig my job, my bands, my house, my routines, my space. But they are all NOW. They are not 2 years from now. Some people would prolly say “Fer fawks sake man, all you evah dae is plan, can’t you just enjoy????” N ah can’t say “of kerse ah can just enjoy” w. enuff certainty ta actually believe it even. It’s nawt really how ahm wired.
So what next? WHAT THA FAWK NEXT???
Ah don’t know. It’s nawt that ahm worried about it per se, ah just don’t know. Fer tha first time in many many years, somethang is endin, n ah don’t know tha next steps are. N ah don’t need em eitha. Ah could prolly keep daein what it is ahm daein fer a couple more years (more er less) w.o any negative ramifications. N then ahd be fawkin 30. It’s nawt that ahm afraid of 30 so much that it is ahm afraid of nawt havin a plan.
Ah also think that part of this emotion comes from that ah have nae control ovah this change. Ah haven’t been able ta say, yes, this step is ovah, n onward to tha next one. This marker has been created for me n it’s caught me way-tha-fawk-off-guard, n ahm nawt especially good at bein caught like that. So nawt only am ah dealin w. a big scary unexpected animal of a life-changing-moment, it’s nawt one ahve made n have come ta terms with just yet.
2010 has come early for me. Ah feel a great desire/need to mark this change on me in some way. Part of it will be gittin rid of this goatee (that ah actually really dig). Ahm also ready ta start plannin my next tattoo – which will be SF-themed. These things help, but thar all superficial. So whas tha real thang ah need ta dae ta own tha next phase of my life? N how dae ah know it’s tha rite one?
Ahm nawt exactly afraid of failin – you learn from mistakes n ah pride myself on bein able ta recognize those that ah have made in tha past. But ah sorta feel like ahm blindfolded, w. a big stick, n they tell me thars PROBABLY a big pinata up thar in tha air, n ah just need ta hit it, but b/c ahm nawt sure if ah believe thar even is a pinata, ahm just standin thar, thinkin, tryin ta hear tha wind, n determine if ah should start flailing in tha air, when ahd ratha hang out n hold on fer a clue as ta whar that pinata is. But would ah even believe them if they told me?
Ahm also standin thar thinkin, “why tha fawk dae ah need this blindfold in tha first place?”
Ah hafta leave my house at 530 this mornin, n its 2 am so far. Ah think ahm just gawna hang out at my dads comp, drinkin his beer, thinkin these thoughts, n cryin tha occasional cry until my body gives up n my brain shuts off. This would be a MUCH bettah plan if ah didn’t hafta act like Sunday is any otha Sunday when ah git back west – meanin, ahll have cleaned tha yoga studio before ah even git home, n will then be volunteerin at anutha San Francisco Bike Coalition fundraiser by pourin beer.
My life is pretty awesome – why am ah so scared? Why daes thar hafta be a plan? Why daes it hafta git bettah?
Any of you who know me will also know tha answah ta at least tha last two questions – it’s just tha way ahm fawkin programmed. But if anyone ken help me deal w. tha first one, well, ahm all ears.
