I wrote this for a friend who just moved and I think I tapped into a little emotional reservoir, a cistern of happy/sadness, a (let's see how long we can keep this up) amphora of clashing forces, a septic tank of hope. That was a bit much. Didn't mean for this piece to be so somber, but really, I've had three of my best, closest friends, friends who make San Francisco home for me, move away in the past two years. What's this whole growing up, moving on bullshit? At the same time, pretty crazy stoked for all of them: starting new adventures, lives, living in new cities/countries. It's a mixed emotional bag: love that they are expanding their lives, sucks they they are leaving. The only constant is change. And thus:
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