"i won't say i'm sorry, this hasn't been a waste of time/

tell me, do you think we'll be fine after all?"

- 'the worst is yet to come' by mcs

these have been some tough times we've both faced

but i'm so glad that we met

and i wouldn't trade you being in my life

for anything else

even if things stay the way they are

thank you for always caring

also,

i'll miss you, san francisco

don't forget me and i won't forget you

my days in san francisco are numbered

one, to be exact

i've had many thoughts rambling through my head

in the past couple of weeks

so i'll do my best to at least capture their essence here

every moment we live is only a flash of memory

all that we do is a reflection of all that has happened to us

and what we can remember from it

we are memory beings, keen on moving past

and yet so focused on making more

i try so hard to hold on to what i think are important moments

but i've come to realize that i don't need to work so hard at that

because the actions i take are just responses to

what has come before, and only what i can hope will happen

i am just a collector of memories,

and all the seconds that stack up after this one

will be more to add to the list

there is no finite mass that my memories make up

because my entire existence has been,

and always will be, guided by my memories

memories can be vague, willful, messy, and sometimes even haunting,

but so often they are beautiful and lovely things,

and that is because they are based on the people, the places,

and everything you hold dear around you

i feel a lot

i revisit that theme so often here,

yet i find the urge to do so because i still haven't quite

correctly described what it is

some days, i'm just one thing, and that is perfectly fine

other days, i become breathless with excitement

or miserably discontent, and it always catches me off guard

maybe i've had such a hard time describing what it is

because i honestly don't know what it is

and unless you have actually felt this for yourself

you can't really know it

imagine walking up fillmore on a sunny, windy day;

this day isn't any different from other days

and all the people that you see around you

are the people that more or less make up the strangers

from yesterday, or tomorrow even

so you take a step, and you take another,

and you glance by browser books to see if there's anything interesting

and there's a dog that is sitting outside a coffee shop

and some kind of bird hustling about self-importantly on the pole

with the 'fillmore jazz festival' banner proudly brandished

and maybe you see some people from school

and there's that crack in the pavement that you have to look out for

because you've tripped on it before

and you take some more steps

and all of a sudden you can't stop smiling,

almost laughing even

and your heart turns sideways and the trees grow taller

and everything is within reach

and maybe life just grabbed you from behind

like a love you used to have

that you missed so terribly

as if they saw you for the first time in years

and they won't ever let go

and you don't want them to

and at that moment, you have no idea why any of this is happening

but it's okay that you're lost

because this is your time to be everything you want to be

or maybe you're grabbing something from school

and you walk into the fluorescent lights

and the oddly color-coordinated tiles

and you wait for the nonsensical elevators

that have their own schedule

the elevator door opens

and you push '3' and let the bustling people in front of you

make their choices for their destination

and you get up to the lab

and you sift through the noise and faces

and you pull open your drawer,

grab the models you made forever ago

and hastily mounted for some reason

and you put your headphones in for the walk back to the apartment

and your friends say 'hi'

and you walk back to that hallway

this is when your insides fall to pieces

and you realize that not very many things are going the way you thought they would

as if that laughable idea of your planned life

would ever be accomplished

and there isn't a chance of seeing this through

and it seems like every glance your way

is a sort of accusation,

dripped with meaning and sympathy

because you clearly do not have the heart to push past this

and all you can do is hope the music calms you down

and you can make it back without breaking

what i fear most is that i'm alone in this,

but i refuse to believe that i am

because no one is really alone in anything

the numbers don't lie: there are 6 billion others in this world

and at least one other person can validate your sanity

life isn't easy

but every day i wake up

and i realize that there are so many things ahead of me

i can at least take it step by step

and hope that i do my best

if i have one job while i'm on this earth

it is to find it within myself to acknowledge that

life is simply wondrous

and i should not take that for granted

dum spiro spero