Surviving in Silicon Valley Series

The Pioneer Path

Silicon Valley is a bustling metropolis teeming with millions, yet only a select few find their way to cafes, incubators, and Wi-Fi hotspots where genuine innovation happens. Contrary to the idyllic portrayal of get rich startup books, Silicon Valley is not the embodiment of the American Dream. Instead, it has become a graveyard of shattered expectations, where dreams often crumble under the weight of relentless pressure.

Life here feels like a constant gamble, each day a roll of the dice hoping for success. The area is rife with false promises and illusions, nurturing a belief that harmony reigns and that every technological marvel is crafted by joyful creators. In reality, Silicon Valley is a place where individuals trade their lives for cryptocurrency and pitch decks, and their worth is measured by social media metrics. In the Silicon Valley ecosystem, a steady hum of energy pulses through the land, driving the creativity and ambition of its inhabitants. This small yet influential stretch of Northern California has come to symbolize the very essence of technological progress, drawing people from all corners, each bearing their own dreams and visions.

The core element of Silicon Valley’s meteoric rise lies in its nurturing culture that embraces innovation and dares to take risks. The relentless pursuit of enterprise courses through its veins, creating a tangible sense of potential that electrifies the air. Here, fresh ideas and fledgling startups are born, nurtured, and set free to soar in an environment that celebrates the bold and the inventive.

Lint of the City

A place where many go to visit. A place where people go to eat. A place where the homeless die often and the unknown are lost no more.

All I wanted was some food. It almost breaks my heart to see two individuals laying side by side on the ground, outside of the taqueria with a line outside the door. Laying there helpless with no hope in their eyes. While we consume all that’s around us, walking over bodies to get our next bounty.

Human life be damned, if it gets in the way of the hunter of things. The sorrowful void that covers the spat upon sidewalks, the hungry nestled in the corners of brick and stone seeking shelter from the ocean air we travel so far to feel. Scents of food that will never be served warm, but cold from a garbage can of unknown liquids and germ infested toxicities waiting to consume its beholder.

A tale of two cities manifested on the curb, Porsche on the street and a broken man on the corner next to it. The hardware value over human life, the tragic societal leftovers. Reckless abandonment clutched in the jaws of progression – steeped in the value of gentrification and lost in the embers of burned desire. My watered eyes touch the dry drought ground. I mourn the children who sleep hungry tonight, the loss of a mama and the void of a papa.

They want something to eat, with no desire for succulence, just life.. no fare of desire, just life. The human imprint embedded on the San Francisco earth-plane that’s left carnage and destruction behind. The greed and savagery of men and the purchases of ignorance, consumers of blind suffering and the insatiable want for more.

While the blood still leaks from the arms of the sickly and unexplained stranger and the new moon rises above man-lit light to show us a little more of the dregs who clasp the life beat each and every night to hold onto almost nothing. Motivated by raw instinct and not enough energy to do anything about it. And all I wanted was some food.