Saturday, February 2, 2019

I’m on the plane back from San Francisco. I’ve just had a Jack & Coke, which is doing bad things to both my blood sugar and my general mental acuity, but it seemed somehow appropriate to the airplane experience.

Downtown SF in 2019: A grotesque and surreal environment. Gleaming towers, all the trappings of an unfathomable wealth, the sidewalks and doorways scattered with people in the throes of debilitating addiction and untreated mental illness. You’re quickly socialized to ignore the screaming and step around the bodies and assume that someone else will attend to it if this or that figure sprawled out across the pavement is dead instead of merely unconscious.

p1k3 / 2019 / 2 / 1