San Francisco’s One Of Those Places That Keeps Getting Smaller

San Francisco’s One Of Those Places That Keeps Getting Smaller

San Francisco’s one of those places that keeps getting smaller. We’re not going to be living in homes anymore. We’ll be living in corridors. We’ll be pushed into hallways until we find ourselves in corners. We’re going to wish for windows, but we’re only going to be able to afford rooms underground. The only time we’ll see greenery is through LCD pixelation. We won’t know what’s morning and what’s night. There will be no more months or holidays or reasons to be forced to be together. The most valuable days to us will be when things are on sale. Everything important and valuable from our lives will deteriorate as we search for nothing but anger to fill our insecurities. Being angry will be the only way we feel as if we have a place in this world. We will chase it, feed into it, and love every moment of it. We will nurture every opportunity that we find it. Anger will give us joy. We will have made ourselves so small and hidden among ranks of overcrowded high rises that the only way that we could feel as if our lives aren’t so insignificant is by making others feel more insignificant than we are.

There’s a charm of San Francisco. We reward the destruction of anything beautiful, pure, and natural as if in doing so is a milestone in progress. Everything new and not realized will deserve an applause from people who they themselves can’t explain the reasoning behind it. When we voice our emotions, anger will ensue, as if emotion is to be corrected. We’ll all be shifting through shoulders not knowing what we could say, what we could do, or how we could feel. We’re all just being pushed into corners looking up into corners finding that everything we do can only be done under strict supervision. It’s lovely. They should put hearts at the center of the city to let people know how accepting we are.

I like San Francisco. We’re all working long hours so we could grab onto the short hours that we have outside of sleep and the weekends we spend preferring to be asleep. With the short hours we have, we have to force ourselves to feel anything. With those same short hours we have, we have to grab onto anyone or anything hoping that they’ll make us feel less small than what the city had made us into.

I like that. It’s agonizingly sweet.

San Francisco Pier
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