I walked the dog around the neigborhood and up to Dolores park tonight. There were several parties going on in different corners of the park - some final hoorah for Critical Mass. I steered pretty well clear of them; somehow the energy didn't seem that positive. It was more like people looking for a struggle in which to pour their energies. All over the mission district I saw groups of six or seven cyclists, heading home after the big rallye, and filling the lanes with their bikes two and three abreast. A small taste of power tends to have an ugly effect on weak-minded people. The whole thing seemed defiant and confrontational, for the sake of defiance and confrontation. HEY MAN, DON'T FUCK WITH US. WE'LL HIT YOU WITH OUR KRYPTONITE LOCKS.
Everybody's got a plan to make the world better. Invariably calls on other people to change what they are doing.

I keep having these weird encounters with groups of lesbians around here. This area has become the stomping ground for young, angry, punk-rock dykes. They go to the Lexington Club on 19th street, and when there's enough of them together, they start fronting tough. How dumb can you get? I've heard other people recount the same experience. Gay, straight... It's all the same. If you act like a shithead, you will be treated like a shit head. Sometimes you'll be treated like a shithead even if you're an angel. That's just the nature of life.

Shit. It's Sunday, and I have to go work on the house. Everyday I work on the house. It has gotten so hard to keep at it. I think I am in the sixth or seventh week of painting, and though it's near done - everyone says so - I can't seem to see the end. The most interesting thing about this process, is seeing myself brought to the end of my will; my strength; my resolve. i consider myself the strongest man alive, but I'm watching the steeply banking downward curve of my focus.
The hardest thing is knowing how much personal business needs seeing to, and not having the nergy at the end of the day to deal with it. yesterday our front door lock went on the fritz, and I just left it. For all I know the house is wide open. My room upstairs is just a sty, mattress bare, clothes on the floor, alongside garbage, crumpled up receipts, pieces of sandpaper. If only I coyuld finish today, in one twelve hour rush of work. I would totally do it. Instead I'm only able to fill holes and gaps in the wood with caulking and bondo. I want to take this day off, but I'll regret it tomorrow.
It's scary to push myself so hard and so far.