Aged wood panel planks (thick and prone to splinter) sit between what would be cinderblocks. I guess the city of San Diego decided to mix pebbles and colorful rocks with the stuff they use to make cinderblock—all in an underhanded attempt to distract beach-goers from the bleak reality of the stunning gray.

As I grip the top of the rectangular “L” shaped block with my palm, I feel surprised by the smoothness of the brick. From afar, one would imagine they’d tear your hand to shreds even if you were to glide your fingers along the surface.

You can’t say much when you’re on the beach. It’s a good thing I’m observing from a sandy limestone bluff, before the tide pool polygons. The rocks and dust in front of me pull my eyes toward a small patch of what my dad calls “cactus flower.” It is surely more than a patch, but less than a field. A small bed, with intermittent spots of dirt. 

As the natural clock approaches summer, the vegetation becomes less amusing and more scientific. I always found that interesting, how thoughts and opinions change and return to their ground state. It makes me wonder if the change is genuine. Yes, the beautiful blue somethings fade and become weak, but the thorns are always there. 

One day, the sparrow might call the blend violet, and on another day blue. But how can one really say? It’s all a cycle that begins and ends on aged wood panel planks between gray cinderblocks.

{Fin}  - What did you think about this piece?

I find it intriguing that romantic comedies continue to be produced in 2012. Chronic escapism has been at the apex of the American Experience since the roaring 20s. According to WolframAlpha, 2.592 million people suffer from depression in the U.S. That partially accounts for the hordes of product-drenched non-contributing masses that flock to see abominations on the silver screen. You might be asking yourself, “What is this post about? Is it a rant about the movie industry, about depression rates or some kind of poorly worded venting?” If you asked any of the first two questions, I couldn’t really criticize your comprehension of the English language. If you asked the third question, I’d be slightly upset. The bottom line is, this post is about me. Who is “me?” Or more grammatically correct, “Who is me?” Me is not an overpriced, soon-to-be-expired Apple product; me is an amalgamation of disturbed Hobbesian acrimony. I have to admit, I love messing with people. It’s a great occupation (we call it “Being a politician” in America) and I encourage all to try it on/with their friends. We need more comic relief in the world like we need more social justice, food and water accessibility, and universal healthcare. The joke doesn’t work when the world really, really needs these things. This Tumblog was meant to be more than a subdomain that reblogs interesting pictures and .gifs. So, I am promising myself and the maximum two other readers (not my parents) that I will do what I initially set out to; shock the world with words so sharp that even Supreme Court Justice Clearance Thomas will have to say something.