Stumbling across the stars I wobbled towards Highland and
over to catch my bus to the beach. As I
sat on the bench and waited I was entertained by the transvestite’s turning
tricks, every few moments there was an outburst and fancy cars with tinted
windows would stop and pick up like they were New York taxicabs. When the bus hit the corner, I popped in my
headphones and kicked back for the 45 minute ride back to the beach with JimMorrison.
I felt like I was in another world when I arrived on the
streets of Santa Monica after midnight.
I wandered down the empty Boulevard passing benches cluttered with
blankets and bodies and the foul stench of unclean bodies. When I reached the beach, I navigated my way
through the sand towards the 2 towers which marked the life guard stand where I
knew I would find my friends. Fires are
not allowed on the beach in L.A., but when I arrived my friends were sitting by
the fire, Sam strumming his guitar. “Genius”
I thought when I saw the fireplace that they had constructed, they had dug a
hole and on two sides built sandcastles as obstructions from the Police view
and to kick onto the fire pending the sight of headlights creeping through the
sand.
We sat and we laughed under the moonlight. Sam had decided to that his journey was
ending and he and Carlos told me about a place that they found a few blocks up
which provided supplies for the people of the street. Sam’s journey was coming to a close, he had
crossed this great land with his guitar and it was time to go home and the
people at this center were providing him with a ticket home in the
morning. As we drank and we talked my
friend Carlos became a bit angry and began acting a fool. Angry with him for ruining this perfect day
with aggression I told him to stop and this large tattooed man got in my
face. Being the crazy little man that I
am I stood my ground and told him he was acting a fool. Moments later I hit the sand as he came
across my head with a right hook. This
was the first sign of danger on these L.A. streets and for a moment, I awoke
from my dream.
I had no backpack tonight and no supplies so angry and a bit
drunk I walked away shouting and headed towards Malibu. For the first time since I had arrived, I
felt angry and scared and vulnerable. As
I trolled down the beach in my stupor I spied a Mexican family jumping out of a
Van with plastic bags, Grandparent to Grandchild about six of them scurried
across my beach to collect bottles and cans.
It was at this precise moment that I decided I would take my negatives
and turn them into positives. “I will not be bound by fear and anger” I thought
to myself, It was at this time that I decided that no matter what happened from
now on, no matter how bad things were, I would do something good and find joy
and I began collecting cans with the family.
We barely spoke into the morning as I filled bag after bag
with my new friends. Each bag I filled,
I politely brought over to the stout woman by the van and a young child who
sorted them and loaded them in. As the
time neared daylight I brought my last bag over with a smile and I thanked them
in Spanish and walked away, I had gained nothing for the work that I had done
with that family, but I HAD GAINED so much.
This deed on the beach brought me a peace which I cannot explain and
provided fuel to my fire. I had broken through to the other side.
I walked the streets until daylight passed lumps of flesh
skewed about listening to a haunted man stomp the block screaming that the End
was imminent. I put in my earplugs to
block out the tormented shouts of the disturbed man and drifted off in “TIME”
by my dear friends Carlos and Patience – The Omega Project and drifted
off. I walked until the sun filled the
sky. Content.
Thanks for coming back. I hope that you find my stories interesting and that you might see things through my eyes as I experienced L.A. Please click my links throughout the story which lead to the people and place's with me on my journey.
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