11 50 pm pst [ life construction ahead ]
I was in a foul mood today. Actually, I've been in a
rotten mood for four days, and have been rather unsucessful at shaking it.
My brother was being rude to me -- I always manage to
forget that he's a teen until he reminds me -- and I was having trouble
coping with my disappointment with his behaviour, so I decided to walk
down to the beach. I was alone in the silence on a long cool walk.
I had an absurd need to take pictures of my journey to
"prove" that I'd done it, as if you wouldn't be lieve me. Only now do I
see how ridiculous that was.
There really is no one out at night in my neighborhood
-- mostly because there is nothing open for people to be going to.
I walked to Ocean Avenue and sat on a bench watching
the shifting colors of the ferris wheel on the peer.
I'm read to go. I am am ready to live with Matthew --
to embrace the future. I'll tell him tonight. I believe he is ready too.
There's nothing to hold me to LA. I still can't
believe I'm out $3000.00 from my last job. Luckily I've gotten two web
jobs in the past week or so.
So I thought as I walked and I thought as I sat and
then I headed south so I could walk down the stairs to the beach at
Montana Ave. A few people were running along the coast line at that hour
and the crashing of the waves was lost in the crushing noise of traffic.
I made my way down the stairs slowly.
I watched a homeless man retrieve his green tarp from where he had stashed
it and was thankful I had a warm home to return to -- a warm home which I
am leaving for the warmth of my boyfreind's arms.
I stood on the bridge over the Pcific Coast Highway
(PCH) and watch the cars roar under. I could have watched the twinned
lights for hours.
Then I gingerly walked across the stretch of sand and
planted myself on the beach close the the waves. I sat again for a long
time, let my thoughs wander and escape on the breeze.
There was something refeshing about not beings able to
record my thoughts -- about knowing they were fleeting and having to
experience them in the temporal realm.
Already the experience is fading. Already I am
cataloging it and storing it away as just another page. Yet today my life
has taken a new direction.
< yesterday
~ month ~
tomorrow >
Rachel's Daily Diary :::
the tip jar
