If It Feels Good Do It

Today I walked downtown to get some coffee. Then I sat in the coffee shop for quite a while, working on a poem. I felt so happy working on a sixteen line quatrain that hardly anyone will read. When I’m downtown, working on my writing, I feel the most happy I’ve ever felt in San Mateo.

I used to feel like I was the only one in San Mateo who thought about something other than 401ks and stock options. But if I went back to my hometown to hang out with people grew up with, I felt like I was the only one who did think about those things. It’s funny.

I used to have this ideal vision of moving somewhere where I fit in perfectly. A place where people weren’t so reserved, and were more like me. A place where I was happier.

Is there really a place that I could live and be happier merely by living there? I have a vision of such a place. How much of that vision is an illusion?

If I lived in a place that was full of people like me, everybody would be busy talking about their Chinese Step-dads and pick-up trucks, about how they were liberal, but in a certain way, about how they were conservative, but not that type of conservative. They’d all be Raiders fans, and they’d have the same birthday as their sister. They would have majored in Computer Science but act more like someone who majored in smoking dope.

I’d probably still want to go downtown to get some coffee and work on my poetry.

Then later I would want to go buy some vinyls.

Later in the day I went to Vinyl Solution on 25th AVE. What a great store. I bought a used Master of Puppets cd in honor of Axe the Executioner. But I also bought the Fleetwood Mac album Tusk, on vinyl. I’m listening to it right now. It sounds like I feel.

Maybe I really am home.

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