E tenebras, lux dormiens

I tried to go to a Deaf GLBT meeting, which was quite near the Castro. I didn't do it. I had the panic attack that made me choke, unable to breathe.

"Do or do not. There is no try."

I had been planning for days to show up, but I took too many things as signs that I should not go to the meeting. I went to San Francisco by BART, and got off at Civic Center, ready to go to Church St. by Muni.

Then I found that the machine for putting quarters in had a paper blocking it. I thought it was a sign that I shouldn't do it. I ignored the machine, but I didn't want to try to enter the Muni station without paying for the ride. What if someone stops me, find that I don't have a proof of payment, and then they arrest me and I'm sent to court? Too much trouble!

I mulled around and thought, Why don't I try to walk over there? Alack the day, it was but one hour mine; before the sun would go to sleep. As I walked, I grew more nervous, and more nervous. I knew that I was treading into an unknown territory. And what I did not know, I most highly fear. I walked, each step to bring momentum to the next. How far is it anyway? I didn't know how far it was . . .

I took a muni bus, and I was bemused to see that it didn't go in the direction I expected, so I got off. I walked further. Then I saw the trees of palm. Am I close? I saw the words Gay & Lesbian on some building. Then I saw the cars.

Oh, no! Too many cars, too many people! People that I cannot see behind the windshield. I turned around. I definitely do not like to walk alone. I decided to go to a different kind of meeting, but disappointed that I missed an opportunity for another month, I returned home nonchalant.