After doing laundry, I did a 42 mile ride, crossing the Golden Gate Bridge and climbing Mt. Tam. Mt. Tam was a bitch, but I'm starting to feel slightly back in condition on climbs. Coming down, I passed someone which was odd since I consider myself pretty scared on downhills.
My top speed on the day was 38.5 mph, and I don't think I hit that on the Mt. Tam descent! It was a beautiful day in Marin, and a beautiful ride. The worst part was crossing the Golden Gate Bridge, which was totally fogged in, and on the return trip I felt like I was riding in a storm, hanging onto dear life to keep from being blown over. Condensation from the fog falling like rain.
I got home (back in the sunlight) to a message from Delphine asking me if I wanted to go to Bottom of the Hill since she had a plus one for the Earlimart/Elefant show, neither bands I knew anything about. At first I thought no way after that ride, but I ended up going and enjoying her company. I'm driving down to Orange County with her in a couple weeks for her friend's wedding. Somewhere along the line, Delphine and I have become comfortable friends.
All so normal. But I will hold the line. Not wanting to leave is just more reason why I should.
It actually makes me smile. It's also really hard. The detachment and attachment struggle against each other, but it's an academic struggle. It's a visceral struggle. This going through daily life, this going through normalcy, infused with a mental cancer no science will recognize. No, not mental, this existential cancer.
When I lie in bed every night, my thoughts are bombarded with this. Every morning, I awake to an emotional gripping despair that I don't want to go. Fear is the only thing stopping me. And if fear ultimately stops me, what am I worth? It would be the biggest self-betrayal possible. What would I be worth, and what would I do about it? Live my life?
July 23, 2003; 1:08 P.M. - Morning Glories. Valencia Street, Mission District, San Francisco.
