Once you make up a place in your head and you visit it, it loses its luster. Either you start knowing too many people there, you see the bad side of it, your friends say something irrational to you about your past relationships and all you want to do is go somewhere safe, and there is no safe.
There is just a large city named San Francisco where you saw your favorite band at a really awesome venue that was close to a really awesome coffee shop and a sketchy smoke shop. I loved that city in the middle of the night, taking the Muni back to a couch that I slept on, covered in fog. The city didn’t love me though, it didn’t offer me safety and understanding, like I thought it would. It wasn’t a shelter I could run to when I was exhausted of being in the middle of a state that people think is made of gold.
There’s no gold here. There never will be. There never was.