Numbered Life.

God another week has flown by, funny how the time goes into the unknown so quickly. Spring is fast approching and I cant belive its been a year already. It seems like only a few days ago I was planning my escape from San Francisco to the other side of the world.

Now I'm back and submerged deeply in the city grind again. Walking my same red brick path to work everyday. Saying hello to the same over paid bums, lining the civic center sprawl-way. Watching the market street gentrification project in full swing, as one art store is closed to make room for the newer better version in the newly renovated next door.

Pondering the use-fullness of hipster culture ...is it even considered a culture if a subculture only lasts a few years and is centralized in one place on the globe? I suppose so the hippies did it now didn't they? The 80's were hilarious, and we all know the revolutionaries and summer of love were a riot to watch before that. So you could argue that sub cultures are in fact supported on the fact that they have a short shelf life.

Trying to find inspiration in the way sunlight transfers across the office floor each day. As a sunrise turns slowly, almost with out notice into another evening. The way leaves tumble past my feet with the last rays of the day on the red brick path home. Watching the ocean fog blow past the sky freakishly fast from the tenth floor. The moon peeking out during the day, as if to confirm that time has officially lost its grasp. Lost hawks circling the Hobart building small and so fragile looking against the towering brick and steel high-rise square pegs that make up downtown.

I am a number, a living breathing social security, tax id, background checked, certified number. Living in a city full of other numbers, all searching for relivant job and life placement. Experience relative to their number of years on earth, and a pay point to match. I watch them ...talking to themselves...or into the thin air. Blue tooths engauged....ties straightened, hair tied back in smart buns. Everyday...they pass by me these numbers, nothing breaks their self serving agendas. No smile, no signs of life, just numbers. Faceless scowling numbers....to busy to remember yelling into your blue tooth means everyone in a tri county area can hear your conversation. To oblivious to walk in a way that you shouldn't ram into every other person on the street. Assuming that everyone else is less than them....numbers I see you everyday. In a way you are inspiring...you make business life possible and you care about these mundane hampster wheel tasks that fuel the CEO's and CFO's of your world. Ill give you that... the blatent focus of mind it takes to block all else out is amazing.

I know its where the money is... and everyone needs a fall back. So Ill trudge on ...getting my life experience and job training to match my years of life. To look good on paper, and blend with the populus of rapidly growing consumed numbers. Holding my breathe for sunny weekends and Mondays off.