Though it might be the center of the gay universe, I often feel I don't really belong in the Castro. Either because I don't like to dance, spend all night out partying, or because I often don't feel I'm cute enough or fashionable enough, etc...

Sometimes though, I'm reminded how special and valuable this place is, and how easy it is to take the everyday for granted.

Last night a tragic car accident reminded me how much I really care about this place, when a car sped through Market Street and collided with another in a cascade that led to an entire string of cars parked along Castro Street to catch fire.

There was an erie and sorrowful feeling around the Castro this morning because despite the heroic efforts from those nearby, including a good friend and a homeless man I've often ignored, one life was lost.

I don't even know who he was but I still feel hurt by what happened. I sometimes wonder if I have any right to feeling bad when I'm not directly involved in a situation (perhaps I dont?) and I don't know how many times I've looked down on this homeless guy, reportedly name Dane, who tried to save a life despite how shitty he's been treated by me and everyone else.