Wild no more

The Albany bulb is no longer wild. This is my latest observation and conclusion. For a time there, even though I knew the bulb was becoming more and more "domesticated", I still believed that it had retained its wild and untamed self, but after visiting the other day I realized that it has become far too well known and populated. First off, I drove down there and actually got yelled at for taking a parking space, which I guess this car load of whiny middle aged women were waiting for. I played ignorant and just walked right passed them as the driver called out from her open window, "Why did you do that, you saw that we were headed in that direction!" I replied, stupified, "What, huh?" and kept walking. But I should have just said, "Because I didn't feel like waiting in line for your fat saggy asses to find a spot." But I'm not that mean, and would never say something like that to someone's face, unless they really made me mad. I was already kind of upset at the fact that most of the parking spots were taken up down there, which would not have been the case 3 years ago. As I walked along, still sorta irritated at the uber PC Berkeley moms, I noticed a massive group of people down on the little beach with dogs and kids and grandmas and papas. It just seemed so odd that so many people would be down there that late in the day. People used to never go down there, but now here they were in mid November, gallivanting and swishing away with their kids and dogs along the dirty, foamy shoreline. I walked further out, along my usual path, and continued to notice strollers, families, dogs, and large groups of people talking loudly whilst snapping digital photos. So funny, and sad. I used to be able to walk out here and be virtually alone, now the place is just teeming with activity. I suppose some lame ass soccer field is probably in the works now too. It's just a matter of time. Since the bulb has been designated as an official "park" by the city of Albany, I guess people all of a sudden felt it safe to go down there. Before the masses just the bums and the artists occupied the bulb. We know this, I mean most people already knew this. But it still seems so strange to me that the bulb is now becoming a spot to bring the family. The bums lost, and the clean people won. I guess I'm a clean person, but I still wish that the bulb was crazy and dangerous like it was in its heyday (even though I sorta missed that era of the bulb due to me not living in Albany yet). I probably won't write too much about the bulb anymore, unless something newsworthy happens out there, like a bum uprising or something. For now it remains, still interesting, but benign and innocuous, like some fatty lump on the back of your head that may worry you from time to time, but you know it is not dangerous in the least bit.

A few more pieces of...

Alpine Glow

Dizzy

Past/Present

Patterns Line the Walls

adjustments across andulasia
tek-nik-colour
spatial
decisions
in every home a little sadness

Sudden Reality

Repetition in the mind, keeping it locked like a broken groove on an LP. The cycle has an engine, add the fuel to make it move. This is what we’ve become; machines seeking nothing but the same everywhere. Morning rise and tumble from slumber. The same, the same, the same. Every morning you have a new thought, maybe recalled from your dream—that ever so soft dream that had you reveling in some distant wonderful place for a while. Had your unconscious travels led you somewhere you’ve never been before? Had you thinking like a genius? Had you making grand plans? Had you happier than you’ve ever been? But that ol’ sun shown through your cloudy window and cast another day upon your weary face—a face that used to be so fresh and beamed brightly with the innocence of not knowing and the anticipation of getting to know. And now you sit there, on the edge of a wrinkled bed, trying to recall just what was in your head a few hours ago. You believe that if you can remember every little detail your life can actually mean something. Some great-unsolved mystery put to rest. But that doesn’t happen here. Because this new day, like everyday, has already taken hold and your precious delicate thoughts are slowly vanishing from your head. You wish and hope to regain them but who are you fucking kidding?? They are long gone and you can only rehash little details, little images, little phrases, little stories, little genius. There are no mysteries in this new day, just another like the past two already experienced. You finally get up and take a shower. The water is like a brain cleanse and you now have completely forgotten everything from your slumber. You are feeling nothing, just the same basic thoughts that will carry you throughout another day. Life now is survival, we’re like wild animals; just trying to live, just trying to make it through a day, a day that will be tomorrow, and the next, and the next…