Well hello you lazy punk flunks, why no writey?

Today the air was real nice, autumnal.
I taught a lesson in a school in Brooklyn I work at. Typical unbeautiful Chinese manager, barking orders in awkward English that is both unkind to the ears, the eyes, and the nose. And typical to teaching, the youngsters, prior to being conditioned to wanting the teacher to be a particular way with particular results in mind for some particular test in mind, like some of the high schoolers are, were very wild and rambunctious and I admired and encouraged them. Curious and loud and laughing and smiling. The high schoolers on the other hand were mostly sleepy half dead.

Well, enough about that. Later on I was in Rockaway Beach, and it was warm and pleasent, but the whole scene was kind of depressed and run down. There were old folks homes and halfway houses by the boardwalk. These institutions are absolutely terrible when magnified by the terror of the wide uncaring ocean and the wide uncaring sky, both steely grey in the evening. If I want to feel particularly sad I will come back in February to this same place.


Here is a funny time, the other night on 32 and fifth avenue I was hanging out at Grey Papayus with a bunch of Egyptians. Gotta love our city. I was teaching them Chinese. They swore I was something brilliant. I wanted to take more from the night still. I wanted to smoke a hash hookah with them transported body and soul to some calm quiet warm place where it is legal to sit outside in public at night and not feel that you have one person who is bad towards others anywhere near your place or your conciousness.

Another place like this would be where fish splash in large glass tanks. You pick the one you want to eat. Why do I feel like I must reteach myself how to socialize? Remember the good times singing in San Francisco? Remember when we all had less worries then? Well, till the next time.

Well hello you lazy punk flunks, why no writey?

Today the air was real nice, autumnal.
I taught a lesson in a school in Brooklyn I work at. Typical unbeautiful Chinese manager, barking orders in awkward English that is both unkind to the ears, the eyes, and the nose. And typical to teaching, the youngsters, prior to being conditioned to wanting the teacher to be a particular way with particular results in mind for some particular test in mind, like some of the high schoolers are, were very wild and rambunctious and I admired and encouraged them. Curious and loud and laughing and smiling. The high schoolers on the other hand were mostly sleepy half dead.

Well, enough about that. Later on I was in Rockaway Beach, and it was warm and pleasent, but the whole scene was kind of depressed and run down. There were old folks homes and halfway houses by the boardwalk. These institutions are absolutely terrible when magnified by the terror of the wide uncaring ocean and the wide uncaring sky, both steely grey in the evening. If I want to feel particularly sad I will come back in February to this same place.

Who wants to feel sad though? With so much already forboding in the life of others we care about to feel sad about. So as necessary, I look on the bright side, and gather thoughts of the practical nature on matters and relationships that only I can affect and leave the rest to themselves. What choice does one have?

Here is a funny time, the other night on 32 and fifth avenue I was hanging out at Grey Papayus with a bunch of Egyptians. Gotta love our city. I was teaching them Chinese. They swore I was something brilliant. I wanted to take more from the nigh still. I wanted to smoke a hash hookah with them transported body and soul to some calm quiet warm place where it is legal to sit outside in public at night and not feel that you have one person who is bad towards others anywhere near your place or your conciousness.

Another place like this would be where fish splash in large glass tanks. You pick the one you want to eat. Why do I feel like I must reteach myself how to socialize? Remember the good times singing in San Francisco? Remember when we all had less worries then? Well, till the next time.

ROMANIA.

What would Mucha do?

Why is the society so boring?

Everyone just works and hides their money or runs around party time spending.

I am both apathetic and bored and jealous.

What happened to our cheerful society?

Art and Ego and salesmanship: competition for the best spot, the better reward, the most ideal...It is no wonder so much is unwound and tangled and destroyed. How to navigate and thrive? We all ask ourselves this. Some are better at it than others. Some just follow the natural order of society and growing up and going forward...But no one cannot deny how odd life really is. To confront reality without perceptions and walk around breathing calmly and light on one's feet, well rested, full of good food, with a chest full of love- is this not breathe of life?

Another chapter unfolds itself into the next

http://sfbay.craigslist.org/sfc/roo/3201600989.html

$750 9/1 move in - Looking for a new housemate (richmond / seacliff) (map)

---

Date: 2012-08-12, 5:57PM PDT
Reply to: xprkn-3201600989@hous.craigslist.org ^{[Errors when replying to ads?]}

---

The fog has been quite a heavy blanket in which our roommate is looking to remove by heading back east to his family.

His room is spacious with a closet and large bay windows that overlook the garden outside. There are two other housemates (myself) and Allison who share the place. There is a kitchen, large living room (w/ fire place, piano) and both a bathroom and a shower. If your looking to live in the "outer" Richmond (22nd and California) the place is a gem. We've had quite a run since I moved here two years ago but time moves forward, and with that, a new member of the household. The move in/out date was recently confirmed for September 1st however I will be traveling to Colorado this coming Sunday through the end of the month and would like to partake in this "draft" process.

Thus, I ask for you to give a brief description of your current state of being, whether or not you have any past qualms with the Richmond kings (local gang) and anything else you deem worthy. If my judgement of what you write is positive maybe we could grab coffee/drink/sunshine downtown sometime this week

A few additional facts. We have not used the heat since I moved in however hasn't been a problem. The rent is listed as 700 because we all have our own individual month to month lease with the landlord and I am not sure what my house mate's rent is however I believe its less than mine which is $666. We pay water, gas, electric and internet. The landlord's mother in law lives downstairs (garage floor unit) however we have no problems. She has the prime gardening spot but there is ample room for you to do your thing back there. We're not looking for a party type atmosphere but simultaneously we do not hold back from spontaneous energy combustion. We're not a commune but we share pretty much everything without keeping tabs, nonetheless I do dip into my pocket protector for when the time comes for to pay the utility bills. We don't have cable television and do not plan to obtain it. Hmm, not sure what else to add, oh no pets.


California at 22nd (google map) (yahoo map)

 RESPONSES

 

Looking for a new housemate

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Hello there!

Caught your ad on Craiglist and would like to check the room out. I am looking to move by the 1st. To tell you a little about myself, for work I manage the bike rentals out in Golden gate park where I work long hours. I am also a native of SF and have lived here all my life. Im a pretty mellow person, and very social I enjoy a good beer and a nice couch, but you will also find me out riding my bike. I am looking for a place where I can be long term. I have no issues with the Richmond Kings, (never even heard the them to be honest). Please let me know if I can come by and check the place out and meet the roommate. Hope to hear from you!

Here is my fb link btw: Facebook.com

Your Awesome New Housemate (no issues with the Richmond Kings)!

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Hello!

    I am really interested in the room you have for rent. I am a 24 year old female who just returned from a year of teaching English in South Korea about two months ago. I just started working for One Medical Group as a full-time admin assistant last Monday. Some of my hobbies include: baking, battling a television addiction, hiking, karaoke and legos. I am a very neat person and I always clean up after myself. Between working full-time and socializing with my friends I don't imagine I will be home that much. I am looking for a chill place with a very relaxing environment when I am home. I am available anytime today (Sunday) or anytime this week after 6:30  to look at the room.

Best,
   Hannah
XXX-XXX-XXXX

Hello,

I'm interested in the room you have for rent and I can move September 1st. I'm a 27 year old male with a full time office job downtown. I think I could be a good fit for your home. I'm pretty laid back and easy to live with. I'd like to live in a house where people can hang out and be friends, but I don't mind doing my own thing too. I am totally reliable when it comes to paying rent/bills on time.
I do enjoy the Richmond a lot so I'd be very happy to live there. I currently live by USF which is close to a lot of things, but is lacking the neighborhood-y feel of the Richmond. I'm not familiar with the Richmond kings so I guess that means I haven't had any problems with them.
It would be great if we could meet up sometime soon to see if we'd mesh well as roommates. I'm off work at 6 so I can meet downtown around then or closer to where you live, if you prefer, a little later in the evening. If you'd like to meet or if you have more questions for me, please email or call me at XXX-XXX-XXXX
Thanks.

Aaron

SFSU creative writer interested in room

** CRAIGSLIST ADVISORY --- AVOID SCAMS BY DEALING LOCALLY
** Avoid: wiring money, cross-border deals, work-at-home
** Beware: cashier checks, money orders, escrow, shipping
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Hello, my name is Jared and I'm interested in the room. I'm transferring to SFSU in the fall, male, 21. Major was chemistry; I have changed it to English with an emphasis on creative writing, I might minor in Chemistry still...who knows? Love music: jazz, some techno, but rock n roll is the mainstay - from classic up to modern indie. I play the guitar, though less recently. I enjoy cooking (stick to a vegan diet... most of the time), riding my bike, coffee/tea drinking, reading books/poetry, and have been getting more into films. For shows I like Flight of the Concords,The Office, Mad Men, Breaking Bad, Community, Arrested Development, watch them online. Not affiliated with the Richmond Kings and they are not after me (as far as I know). Have plenty of roommate experience - both guys and girls - rooftop stargazing, bbq's, house music jams; an English professor once said what is most telling of a house though, is the kitchen conversations. I feel I'm easy going, respectful, and clean; haven't had issues with any past roommates. From the ad, it sounds like a cool environment, hope to hear back. You can also reach me at XXX-XXX-XXXX

http://sfbay.craigslist.org/sfc/roo/3201600989.html

- Jared

On Sun, Aug 12, 2012 at 6:57 PM, Brandon <benos4752@gmail.com> wrote:

** CRAIGSLIST ADVISORY --- AVOID SCAMS BY DEALING LOCALLY
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Hi, how are you doing? I'm writing you about the room that you posted on Craigslist.

A little about me: I'm a 25 year old male and a senior at SFSU, studying English literature and education. I love to cook and I have a large collection of cookware, both cheap and quality, that I will gladly share so long as it's not abused. Not a party person, but do like to have a friend or two over on occasion. 

Non-smoker, not a drug user, only a light drinker. No associations or interactions with the Richmond Kings (has that really been a problem with past applicants?). 

I don't watch much tv, so no cable is fine with me (prefer it actually, kind of a waste of money in my opinion). I do read a lot though. I'm not OCD about cleaning, but I do like keep a tidy and sanitary kitchen and bathroom and want to live with people whom feel the same way. I'm not looking for my new best friends, but would like to live with people sociable enough to not lock themselves in their rooms the whole time they're home.

My current lease is up September 30th, but my last month is already paid for, so as long as my current landlady is informed of my intention to move by the first, September 1st works great for me. I'm free tomorrow, Tuesday, and from Friday on.

Um, not sure what else at the moment...thank you for reading, hope to hear back from you, both phone and e-mail work for me.

Brandon

Wha-wha-wha-wha-wha-wha....

What Would Mucha Do?

As the glutton strands peel away from the roof of my small mouth, I'm taken back to my childhood days of a past life spent idling in Odessa.  During summer, mother would gather many a townsmen, just before the sunset, attracted by the scent of the bakery and fueled by the desire to satiate their dry vodka coated throats.  Now, as the sugary fountain drink washes down this delicious chewy texture, the cabbage and potato has been replaced with tomato and mozzarella, but the cold stare of the fellow patrons remain.  The cold connective stare which we share of hopeless futility.  I love you my brothers; of this life and the last.

I am going to bed.
   Nothing could be more anticipated than my bed...
     the soft, fleece, grey blanket has it's say
     the yellow pillow of horizontal texture has it's say
     the soft thoughts of first. second kisses have there say
 I just want to stay awake...
to have that anticipation of the already present-
on rewind in the hours
minutes,
seconds,
glimpses of the day become dreams.

These past few days have been cold and windy. But at the same time, warm and pleasant. The wind does stop and it really is not cold at all. But one misses what summer feels like, misses what snow looks like. Does this not describe the endlessly describable San Francisco climate? How bothersome and redundant yet always worthy of comment. One more: the way the fog rolls in plumes in summer. The terror to me of the Sunset. The whole inescapable nature of this tiny city. And yet we do escape it. And we must go beyond it. The whole of it and all its neighborhoods must be forgotten one day. The good people that call here home might never leave. It is not my home and never has been. And this is a kind of sin. But like all sins one can forgive and forget. And always the reminder of all the happy laughter and cheerful hellos and friends and relationships that fill the days and the streets...

In writing here I am taking a step away from the artistic and a step towards the frank and natural tone. But does not art touch and enliven and make bearable everything?

So I tell you what I see.  A dolphin and a pelican. Dogs all over the place. Big, very big black birds with ugly shrills sitting below heavy overlapping phone wires. Some mysterious box on a pole that hums, and emits radiation. Babies in baby carriages every morning. Babies in baby carriages that smile and smile again, absolutely smile at me because I smile at them. The sound of the electronically powered bus accelerating and decelerating. The way the mail box door squeaks. The way the sun shines off the mailbox when I grab its hefty metal handle and drop my nurtured thoughts down its fat wide throat. How the moon looks without mercy amongst the cold air up there in space at us down here. How the same homeless sit in stuffy air in libraries crowded after schools let out. How even with the windows open the place is crowded and choked. And palm trees go unnoticed, swaying in different spots amongst the high breezes.

One remarkable and telling observation is this. The way different neighborhoods allow different neighborhood old men to congregate in different neighborhood cafes. And how the men from different neighborhoods in these different places seem different in an odd and unfamiliar way: the same way kids from different schools from different neighborhoods appeared odd and unfamiliar to me when I was a kid and encountered them.

I wonder where that big black bird that I saw standing in the blinding sunlight under the heavy mess of hanging black power lines is roosted away right now in the night. So big, so large, where does a bird like that sleep?

 Remember Mucha.

sometimes when i pray
i look out my window

and i say
lord, show my something that is perfect
so i know you exist

and i heard a voice
and it said...

time
   after

time


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2PqhOrgk11A

{recovered transcript]

{urbanmonks meeting April 24, 1931}

People, people. Please find your seats.

Ok, then.  Let me begin by thanking you all for coming out here on a Thursday evening.

Ladies and gentlemen.  My briefest of meditations this evening surround the notion of humility.

There was a little brown cow
how i know this, heres how -

I drank the milk from the teet
engorged on this dairy so sweet
there on my knees in the hay
inside the barn, on this spring day

and now when i get all tangled up this humans life
everyone running, finding a man or a wife

i lick my lips and recall
how








it felt like
in that moment
to be a young cow

I sit in the easterly third of my bay window with the windows open, wide.  The blue sky to the south is shrinking as the heavenly-white sand dunes in the sky ripple their way across Lake, California, Clement, etc.  In the sun, it was hot a few minutes before and now in the grey sky it is still warm.  No wind, hardly a breeze out there; a scarce calmness felt in San Francisco.  It seems like the clouds above can't wait to release their moisture from the Pacific that they carried over who knows how many miles of endless sea.  The raindrops falling upon the yard, so tiny and light, feel like an east coast summer afternoon shower; where the slight moisture upon the earth releases a sweet smell that I can only recollect from t-shirt afternoons on the east coast.  These tiny drops create an almost white-noise, with no specific droplet to be heard.  Not enough moisture yet built up on the leaves or roofing shingles to grab your attention with their dramatic thud of sheer volume as they hit the ground below.  

The search for warmth is instinctive in all creatures with breath. Cultural differences arise when we value differently sources of heat and thus are attracted towards them accordingly. As a dog sits beneath the rays of light beaming in from the large bay windows, a boy places his confused head upon his mother's nook. As a sea lion lays upon the warm sand in the heat of day, a New York man may sit in a cafe upon the listless stares of Chinese checkers and satiate upon the delectable Cha Siu Bao accompanied with plastic bag water filtered coffee grinds. As a bearded dragon arches himself upon a heat lamp, a homeless man may stay up all night ripping espresso and contemplating prior youtube psychedelic experiences.

A man's numb mind may over power his decision making abilities, and allow him to walk into the tenderloin to find his fix, meanwhile simultaneously another man decided his heart must move his body to spend his free day at the clinic counseling these robots, attempting to put a twig in their karmic wheel of repetitive bodily harm. Both men, following their breath, with directions provided by their will, towards what will keep them warm when the fog rolls in.

As life is best shared, we seek others that agree upon selections of warmth. We surround ourselves with creatures of similar selection. We market ourselves, our ideas and the direction we're headed, in the hopes that other creatures will join us at the new art opening, the movie premier or the hip bar's happy hour. After digesting a plethora of information (city living) we attend social events in which we expect the temperature to be dialed in to our preferences, we put our head on a swivel, and we start the mating process. Others may decline to consume the abundant information, full knowing that the concrete cushion on the sunny-side of the block may provide all we seek. Why aren't the beautiful women of the Richmond salivating over such a practice?

The Saturday evening quiet hum of red delicious apples
Slices through the blue air like helicopter blades.

Out there somewhere boys race cars.

Inside the house its all darker before the evening has made there dark too.

This morning the street undulations appeared well rested and clean.
They were greyish black without shimmer.
------
 
For eternity running through grassy fields with long flowers and bees and flying meaty grasshoppers.

One lands on your leg as you stop to breath. You run on again for another ten thousand years.
-----

 Your dreams consist of deciphering bees dances and the memories of river eddies. You long for a fatherly male grandfather to teach and guide you. But no one is there. You look into the wisdom of birds flights for guidance, and make sense of the sadness of Spring, by the memory of the clean air of winter cold and enlivening, shivering always the night away. In the loveliest place is the sound of laughter in the park by the lake in summer,evening moon glow on sun warmed skin. Big green trees sway, a thunderstorm on the way. Tiny drops and everyone runs their cars.  Sleep and the dream of bees dancing soon underway.

I was robbed tonight.   My first time ever.  Not figuratively robbed, like the $9 beers at baseball games, but the real deal; the taker, face to face with his victim.  An injustice executed over the kind of nominal amount that makes the news for its petty value, just two dollars.  There was no aggressive motions of violence in this robbery, but rather the societal damaging blow of intent of another deeming their desires that much more valuable than another.  And worse, over the simple sequence of varying tones, neatly arranged in an order that is pleasing to the ears and the neural signals it sends throughout the body....

....

I took Little Bear for a walk at Baker Beach. It was beautiful out. The sky was gray and the wind was strong. Sometimes it was too strong and threw sand, so I protected Little Bear with my body. That was great for him, he loves to cuddle. He made friends with a terrier named Buster. They chased each other around. I raced Little Bear across the beach. He started to tire out so we walked home. I gave a man with a camera directions to China Beach. Now Little Bear is all tucked in on my bed. Dan put the sheets over him like a father would his child. We spoil Little Bear. But we're trying not to feed him what we eat anymore, so he doesn't get fat.

It's Easter Sunday, at 5:30 p.m., and Geary Boulevard is quiet.  It seems that everyone is either placing cloth napkins upon their lap or half asleep; recuperating on a relatives couch from a feast of protein and gravy.  In those homes, the static of baseball is alive in the den.  The soothing play-by-play mumbles in the background as dads fall sleep, cousins go for strolls around the neighborhood, and moms dry dishes with damp kitchen towels.

Frozen banana slice, you were stripped of your healthy identity to a land of Friendly's decadence. Plowing up the remaining peanut butter from the crunchy apple fad of only 5 minutes prior.  Ice cream?, sorbet?, frozen yogurt?- Please, welcome to the new horizon.  Think of all the eggs, sugar and cream bobbing up and down aside in the wake of a water-skiing frozen banana upon the glassy early morning lake of organic, smooth peanut butter.  The shores littered with the active ingredients of smores.  All the campers waiting for their turn in the dining hall.  Look no further than the rolling wakes terminating their subtle energy boom upon the dirty sandy/soily shore.  Shores that just feel kind of dirty, as if a bandaid sighted catching on the dry shore and lifting back a few inches with every wave is not that hard of imagining.  So easy to imagine that I could probably discuss the movement, the color, the structure of that bandaid for paragraphs.

Today at Lung Fung I had a one sided conversation myself,  with the Lung Fung lady.
I spoke and she responded: 'yah, yah, yah. Yah, yah, yah, ok, yah...' But to treasure it!

Thoughts on last night:  "Return of St. Patrick's drunken like coming home, third chromosome"
The late night hours of all the town and cab bar and alley strange banter and laughter comes home to the kitchen. And the kitchen is like a sonorous reverberating definer of all syllables and snickers from within it. If one wishes, the major aspects of a conversation can be pieced together with alarming contiguity from the foreign realms of the neighboring rooms.

From under a blanket for fear of strangers voices without, I heard too, entertaining talk. An educated man stood near my bed and spoke about a fancy piano, "with pickups on every key", in an annoying accent that made him tedious to listen to. He used the English term 'if I allow myself to make myself clear'. There was a mousy voiced girl that sounded sober, and uninteresting, as she deflected the insinuations of third chromosome.

After a while it all was quiet as the creaky stairs let them out and then, the loud wham of the door slamming, without anger shut. Today morning flowed into afternoon in one quick invisible motion. Rainy Evening, perfect night for a cold one at the Blue Fin. Yaah right.

I heard Third Chromosome come home last night.  His effervescently-driven indoor voice woke me up.  I was tucked into my sleeping bag at an hour that definitely was not late, but surely after 1 am.   I laid there listening to the random words I could understand.  Not that his words were mumbled or slurred, but just muffled by the plaster walls that partitioned our two very different worlds at that hour.   But, I was happy to hear it, happy to be in my semi-cozy bed as an audible voyeur.  Physical presence was not needed to be in this one-sided conversation.  He had his bike stolen and to balance out the taking, decided to take away a few brain cells.  Taking those away have always brought a level of joy.     

Poison Dart guy from Lung Fung still refuses to smile. The man that we refer to as Poison Dart dude has intriguing style choice of shoes and pants.So dainty. He sometimes plays music from his phone. He is a serious man, refuses to smile. But he smiles inside. Jimmy and Tran, they smile on the outside. Tran smiles with his eyes too!

Been spending some good time with Rick lately. I ran into Old John across town and he yelled out 'What are you doing here?' Go figure.

Well, talk to you later,
Random Dude from the Richmond that has so many and so few friends, you know what I mean.

WWMD?

Yo yo... put your Q's in the air....

Richmond Queens Benevolent Association or Richmond Queens Benevolent Gang, call it what you like, this here is another kitchen wall to share brainstorms, plan future gatherings, etc.

What would Mucha do?

Well I have no idea if this site will be a rich resource or not, but I just wanted to put it up there and get it out there so that anyone could post and share.

To work on the blog and post, one must log into richmondqueens2012@gmail.com (password: lungfung)...

Much love to the brotherhood of the Richmond Queens.