I had this dream where psychogeography was dogging me and I flew up in the air in my car, looking down on Interstate 80, but man, that pizza is whack!

Every time I get into a discussion with someone at SF State about why I need to get home as soon as possible whenever it dawns or I look at the clock behind the room, with a worried face, turning my head back and forth, I always tell them I live in Martinez. If they don't know where Martinez is, I tell them it's in the East Bay. When one person I spoke to didn't know where the East Bay was, I told him it was on the eastern side of San Francisco, but then again, he was from New York and never ventured out of SF. Well I can't blame the kid, since he moved out from the Midwest and wanted to study in New York. He did like the SFSU website compared to the one he was applying for.

There are times when I'm not aware of the time that passes by when I start my commute from the North Concord/Martinez BART station and end at Daly City station. I pass the time by reading any textbooks or novels at my leisure, but recently, I've been carrying headphones with me, since I'm utilizing the MP3 feature on my smartphone, listening to list of songs multiple hours, it's fun. Whenever a sun refracts on the window across the seat adjacent to the doors, I quickly scroll the list to a cello piece that represents a soothing start to my day, waiting patiently to get out of the train and into my mediated life.

I recall my first time ever[1] taking BART to get to school. I was so nervous of riding alone, that having no one else watch you, instead of watching yourself from child nappers or people who are thinking of stealing your backpack, started to make my stomach churn, especially when I didn't eat breakfast at all. I would do that every morning, but that time, it got much worse as the day went by.

The only thing I did to entertain myself was looking outside of the window. Cars and a multitude of foliage and shrubs whiz pass the speed of the train, making our surroundings like peering inside a paper green snake lantern, the sun trying to make its way to shine out of the tunnel that goes to the underground railroad to San Francisco.

Urban Dreamscape: SF

Footnotes

[1] - It was also my first time ever being all alone taking BART. It would usually be my family or rarely, a friend taking BART with me because when I was 19, my mom would be very cautious of my safety whenever I'm outside the house without being with her. Hearing experiences from my mom about taking BART, she told stories about her sitting next to a bum who probably was digging in a trash can, looking for food, with the likely chance of using the BART ride as an excuse to take a long nap. I'm hoping that she didn't encounter the guy/girl leaning her head on her shoulder, as she would probably be weirded out and getting out of her seat that's stained as a shade of gray according to the average curvature of a person's body in the San Francisco Bay Area, which they should be considering replacing the seats as soon as possible, for the fact some fecal matter and skin-borne bacteria is on those cloth seats.