Cosmic Cowboy

Last night, I had this sense of peace and stillness driving in the Bay Area. This isn’t the first time that I have had this feeling. I always get it when I am driving in the Bay Area because everything seems to be right. The sun or clouds are always there. The trees also make an appearance. I just feel like I have this sense of oneness. I think the thing that scares me the most about leaving the Bay Area is just the familiarity of everything and the connections I already have. There are really great people who have done some really great things for me, and I can’t thank them enough. Have I been lonely living here? Sure. Have I felt like I made a terrible decision moving from SoCal? Who hasn’t? But have I good moments that I wouldn’t trade for the world? You’re goddamn right!

This area is where I grew up as an adult. Going to small claims court, having my first major heart break, applying to jobs, being homeless for a week, relying on myself, asking for help, finding my own sense of purpose in this world all happened in the confines of the 510/650/408 area codes. 

Despite the high cost of living, there is so much kindness in this location that I can’t believe I have been so fortunate to be a part of. 

And last night, at 2:30 AM I had this moment, where it seemed like everything was how it was supposed to be.

It’s also the only place where a drunk queer couple, who partied a little too hard to Sir Mix-a-lot and E-40 at a Sikh birthday party, didn’t balk when I offered to drive them home and Mariachi music blared when I turned the ignition. 

Making big changes are hard. 

I started workshoping this post to be a master post about how I am scared about moving across the country in less than a week. I was going to highlight that I haven’t always been good with change (broke out in hives on the first day of preschool, and cried in the shower three times after graduating from college). Side Note: A+ place to cry, almost as good as in the car, but the water adds a nice touch. 

And honestly, what I am afraid of is just the unknown.

While I was trying to express that in the post, The Mountain Goats came on Spotify and John Darnielle told me (personally) that everything will be okay. And I have to remind myself that.  

It’s really scary to move to a new area, by yourself, with only yourself to count on. And my anxiety is kicking into high gear just because there is so much unknown. I have to constantly remind myself that everything will work out, but the transition is hard. 

I hate when a celebrity dies, and people flock to the internet to write about the celebrity in a personal way. And I hate it only in the sense, that the person is just jumping in on the story because they liked the music, or a particular movie, or a joke they said. But like doesn’t always translate to admiration. But like Walt Whitman, I am going to contradict myself, because I am large and contain multitudes. 

I was 16 or 17 when I had a subscription to SPIN magazine, which I consulted for all of my opinions on music and culture. They had a 20th anniversary for the release of Purple Rain and had bands do covers of each song. I listened to it and loved every song but I had never heard the original album, because I was a shitty teenager who thought he knew everything. That is, until I was 18 or 19 and stumbled across Darling Nikki, and loved how dirty, and explicit it was, and how I wanted to reference it to a coworker with the same name, for the sole reason of having some kind of cultural knowledge over everyone in the room.

But, on Spotify I decided to listen to Track 1 of Purple Rain just to pass the time, not expecting much. Hearing Prince open his album like a sermon was just so different, like he was talking to everyone and me at the same time. And when the drums come in and it turns into a dance party, it just filled me with, I don’t know energy, excitement, or just the idea that every moment was worth living. And that album never lets up. Every song is perfect and every second is packed to the gills with this indescribable reverberation of himself, giving you his whole momentum.   

There were so many nights where I would be studying in my apartment alone and would take breaks dancing in my living room because I had nothing else to do. And many nights I went crazy per the instructions of Prince, and many nights I sang along to “I would Die 4 U,” and many days in the car I would hear how Doves cried and just give it all I had.