Pure Garbage.

        I think it's fitting that Jen and I are spending Easter morning on top of a mountain overlooking the San Francisco bay.  Instead of going to church, we packed a back pack full of cigarettes, lighters, weed and our journals.  As I sit here looking at the water, I feel like I'm looking into a sandbox after a heavy rain and that I could scoop up the city with a cupped hand or snap the Golden Gate Bridge with a flick of a finger. I think this is closer to God than the pews of a crowded church that smells of a mixture of strongly applied perfumes and hair spray and the bombardment of pastel colored ties with Easter eggs on them. 
        I am almost more amazed at the amount of litter on this mountain than I am the view of tiny boats voyaging under the Bay Bridge or the lizards running and hiding from the hawk's watchful eye.  There are McDonald's bags, beer bottles, packs of cigarettes and for some reason dirty diapers wedged between these ancient rocks and between warm trees.  I am baffled by how little people respect beauty.  How some people will rush home to catch the last few minutes of Two and a Half Men or yell at their children for forgetting to use a coaster on the coffee table and then turn around and throw a diaper, a plastic diaper full of human shit into the mouth of mother nature; and still think of themselves with high esteem.  How some people can sit on a mountain top and be so underwhelmed by the majesty of nature and human capacity that exists within San Francisco, and throw off of it a bottle of Jim Beam.  
         Sitting on this trash covered mountain peak, I can't help but feel a connection between these stones and myself.  I too know the anguish of possessing paramount beauty, of being inspired and radiant; and then having someone dump a cauldron of garbage on top of you.  I know what it is like to have beer bottles dumped on me and left on to floor to roll a few feet and stop, forgotten.  I too have felt cigarettes tossed into my face by people who did not see my heart but instead saw an escape from their own swooning ball of darkness.  I have felt men discard their trash onto my chest and I have felt their foot steps as they walked away, shake my earth.  What I did not know until this moment, was what it was like to feel beautiful in spite of those bottles and cigarettes and trash that exists within the scars of my heart.
        Because in spite of it's debris, this mountain top is the most astounding thing I have ever seen.
        Thank you universe.