Today’s is going to be different, alright? I’m the author so I get to do this kind of thing. Still San Francisco, but this time, I’m not going to just describe some pretty location or other and speak in a plethora of adjectives about why that location is so great. We’re going to talk about what this city means to me, as a whole, as an individual.
San Fransisco has come to represent home to me. It’s not—not really. I lived near it before moving to college, but it’s not like I really lived within the city. I liked going there as a pastime. When I left, I didn’t expect it to become so important to me. But then, it did.
I chose to make this semester’s blog about San Francisco because I do really love all these different places, and I have memories in each one. I’ve personally taken every picture I’ve posted. I treasure every one. Every one represents a thousand memories that correlate to it.
Since coming to college, my experiences have changed. A lot of that change was obviously foreseeable; a lot of it has not been. I’m not the same person who left. I’m not in that person’s circumstances. I don’t have anything like that person’s life.
San Fransisco is like a symbolic vestige of that person to me. A symbol of what used to be home. What used to be me. The memories I have from there… They are precious, they are irreplaceable, they are snippets of the me who made them, and the people I made them with.
That may not be relatable. Maybe it is. Maybe you have a San Francisco, even if it’s not San Francisco, or even a city, or even a location. Maybe you too have a connection to San Francisco, and that connection differs from mine. It probably does. This connection is deeply personal.
The nature of this world bound by time is that nothing can ever truly stay stagnant. We are constantly changing. Our cells are dying and reproducing every second. Our brains are creating new pathways with every new experience. Regardless of our stance on change, it is a non-negotable reality of this world.
Our memories remind us of who we were. I think it’s natural then to cling to things that keep those memories alive. Pictures, maybe. Journal entries. Blog posts. Facebook statuses. Those examples all made sense to me. I didn’t expect that San Francisco itself would come to mean the same, if not more, to me; a living memory. But then, it has.
Another assignment in this class had me write a piece of fiction to a song lyric recently, and I’ve been mulling over my chosen lyric because of that. It seems applicable here.
And with one touch, I recall every memory, all too precious to not hold them all close to me. -Amalee, Crossing Fields
Moving forward is great. Necessary, even. That doesn’t make looking back a bad thing. I think that’s the point I’ve taken 500 words to get to. Thanks for reading to the end, if you have. Writing this helped me. If you felt compelled to read to the end, then I guess I should add, I hope reading it helped you somehow too.