The red 'incorrect password' message on my e-mail seemed especially harsh today.
I want to go. To Montreal. New York. Peru. I want to sleep on the street and study ecstatic sex rituals and partake in all the black magic I can lay my hands on. I want to have lovers whose eyes I've only seen at a glance, to be arrested on every continent. To learn what it's like to be hungry. I want to teach orphans to read and build homes for the homeless and chain myself to trees. To start communist revolutions, dance in the street for money or drugs. Hop a train to Mexico. To be alone in a city I hate, and deal with it. I want to experience- anything different, anything but San Francisco.