Camels, needles, and rich people.


I visited the old hood the today stopping off at Tempest to high-lock my bike and have a cheap pint. I spent 10 years living at 6th and Natoma, and those were my 20s so going back felt like revisiting my old college campus.

Except this campus is a shooting gallery. There were piles everywhere. 

Piles of garbage, piles of feces, piles of clothing, and blankets piled upon sleeping humans. I’m always amazed at how well people can sleep, barely tucked away on the side streets of SoMa, exposed and vulnerable.  But I suppose it’s no one’s first choice. And besides if you’d been up for six days straight, out of your mind of meth, you would sleep anywhere as well. 

And on the seventh day, he rested. The meek shall inherit the earth. What are we doing for the least amongst us?

Tweakers are closer to god. 

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