TALES FROM SAN GABRIEL: Vol. 1

Find some peace of mind...

What, what do I say? Do I even respond? How should I respond? This is causing more trouble than it’s worth...UGH, I just need to get out of here. Where do I go? coffee. I need to wake up. I need to focus. Oh, but wait no, I don’t want to go alone I’ll look weird. Maybe Ben might wanna go. MAYBE he might be able to help. 12:00AM. so I’m just going to wake him up. I’m thinking too much, Time to go.

“It’s a little rainy.” I muttered to myself, with a tinge of contempt and began walking down to my car. Ah little hero you terrible old machine. How long is Ben going to take? He’s probably going to be late. It was a bit weird as I was walking down, I swear at a glance there was someone watching me. My “Hero” the one and only, not really, my very own black ‘69 Volkswagen Beetle, it was a fairly modest car nothing special other than it managing to outlasting its time. Rust around the fenders, a few “dings” here and there, it’s funny because in a way I respect the old. All that is left over the stuff that managed to survive this long, it’s sad really. To go this long and have so much to do, and be at a point where you can do pretty much nothing. Where was I? oh yeah. After struggling with the blasted door lock, and then fiddling with about three more on the inside I manage to finally get going. Maybe I’m the one is going to be frickin’ late. Eventually with the road in my rear view mirror... who is that? I’m probably seeing things. I need to get it together this is getting out of hand. aw jesus. Forget about it. The roads were nice, dimly lit, kind of like that deep luminescent glow from a fire nestled in the mountains. It was of course nothing like that but it was calming in a sense, a peculiar warmth. I miss home. The roads here are torn down, the infrastructure here is shaky at best, I’m actually kind of surprised that on this little trek I haven’t collapsed into a flooded pothole destroyed poor hero. This rain is getting worse. Why did I do this now? Although the coffee shop...It burned like the end of cigarette in dark, scorching through most of the rain, salvation at last. Maybe I can start fixing some of this. How could I mess it up that bad? Pulling up the rain was finally in downpour, and ben’s car wasn’t anywhere in sight. I ended up looking around for a bit, I haven’t been to this side of town in a while but ben insisted that we visited this dumb coffee shop. I guess that had something to do with it being open in the middle of the night. “Coffee” right off Martin Luther King Boulevard, funny little place the only thing lit up was its emblem. A phoenix laid inside souring out only to be encased in light.

It was of course nothing like that but it was calming in a sense, a peculiar warmth. I miss home. The roads here are torn down, the infrastructure here is shaky at best, I’m actually kind of surprised that on this little trek I haven’t collapsed into a flooded pothole destroyed poor hero. This rain is getting worse. Why did I do this now? Although the coffee shop...It burned like the end of cigarette in dark, scorching through most of the rain, salvation at last. Maybe I can start fixing some of this. How could I mess it up that bad? Pulling up the rain was finally in downpour, and ben’s car wasn’t anywhere in sight. I ended up looking around for a bit, I haven’t been to this side of town in a while but ben insisted that we visited this dumb coffee shop. I guess that had something to do with it being open in the middle of the night. “Coffee” right off Martin Luther King Boulevard, funny little place the only thing lit up was its emblem. A phoenix laid inside souring out only to be encased in light.

Despite this complete dread for the rain, it was that bad. I’m lying to you it was THAT BAD. However, I could care less at this point. I have more contempt for myself than the world around me.