Kiteless, content

Today was a spectacular day in San Francisco; tall cloudless blue skies, warm bright sun, a clear view across the bay, people spilling out of buildings and cars, bears standing three deep outside Starbucks, people’s third-hand copies of porn videos selling five for a buck at corner rummage sales, boys sipping wine out of plastic glasses on Kite Hill, where I wandered with the Tattooed Monk now that he’s returned from a week-long retreat at a Trappist monastary. It’s good to have him back. I told him about the Campfire, for some reason I’ve been so reluctant to tell my “real-life” friends of this effort, but I worried more that he would find out some indirect way, and considering the fact that I discuss him, even with only an initial, it was important to me to make sure he was okay with it all. And he was, happy for me that I am writing again, trusting enough of me to say that he knows I speak of him well, in all circumstances, but especially in writing. We sat on a bench overlooking the City and beyond to Oakland and farther, the ground below the bench eroded away so our grown legs dangled like children’s over the grass.

On our walk back down the hill we stopped and walked through an apartment for rent and open for viewing; the rooms bright and airy. We talked about moving in together, as he plans on staying in the City for another year before he joins a monastary, and he called the landlord and discussed the particulars. The rent was a bit steep but “manageable” (which means if you don’t live in SF, don’t ask me how much it was, because I don’t like it when people faint around me) but they’re looking to rent it in a week, and currently I have a crappy credit history as I try valiantly to clean up the wreakage of my past. So it’s probably not meant to be, but thus begins my search for a new place; either a studio alone or an apartment with a roommate (like the Monk) whom I like.

We ended up back at his place, with a rented copy of Bully, the disturbing latest output from Larry Clark, who directed Kids. It was not quite the way to end such a beautiful day, but the tragedy of these kids’ lives made me appreciate what I got: good friends, a great dog, a heart, a roof over my head, this Campfire, a conscience. What else do you need

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