15 points
Golden Gate Stroll by maccabee Shelley
May 7th, 2006 2:46 AM
Tonight cars were allowed on the bridge while pedestrians were fenced off.
The first time i ever crossed the Golden Gate Bridge was in a car driven by my friend that was deciding about moving to Oakland. We walked through yuppilido, looked into a few galleries, and ate food we couldn't afford (but did) while watching the gental rock of the boats and listening to the creaking wood bump up against old tires. With glasses of Anchor Steam we chrisened my new city and spoke of little jobs and budding ideas for some kind of future. My friend didn't end up staying in Oakland and it was eight months before i crossed the bridge again.
Tonight i rode my bike to the bridge to try to work out some sick feeling i got when i came through the thin trees and down the gentle hill and saw them making out after i finished urinating. Not that i didn't see it comming, or that it shouldn't have been happening, but that there it was happening in front of me. This isn't like the regret that doesn't call back or the ideal living 300 miles away because her eyes are still fresh in mine and my hands are still dry from her cool. The ocean swelling under a growing moon hiding away most of the far-away suns stirs my head into an occillation on such a grand scale that i feel nothing but random wooshing dizzy.
Cold tired oblivion....i'll change this when they finish the construction. Maybe We better finish the construction.
The first time i ever crossed the Golden Gate Bridge was in a car driven by my friend that was deciding about moving to Oakland. We walked through yuppilido, looked into a few galleries, and ate food we couldn't afford (but did) while watching the gental rock of the boats and listening to the creaking wood bump up against old tires. With glasses of Anchor Steam we chrisened my new city and spoke of little jobs and budding ideas for some kind of future. My friend didn't end up staying in Oakland and it was eight months before i crossed the bridge again.
Tonight i rode my bike to the bridge to try to work out some sick feeling i got when i came through the thin trees and down the gentle hill and saw them making out after i finished urinating. Not that i didn't see it comming, or that it shouldn't have been happening, but that there it was happening in front of me. This isn't like the regret that doesn't call back or the ideal living 300 miles away because her eyes are still fresh in mine and my hands are still dry from her cool. The ocean swelling under a growing moon hiding away most of the far-away suns stirs my head into an occillation on such a grand scale that i feel nothing but random wooshing dizzy.
Cold tired oblivion....i'll change this when they finish the construction. Maybe We better finish the construction.
