Drinking beers in the parking lot behind the dumpster over the rusty fence next to the Mexican food restaurant. Music faintly playing in the background and it's one of those summers where all you can smell is blooming flowers and the sand beneath your feet. There's this sense of community. We're all family and it's bound to be this way for life. At least, that's certainly how it seems.
Cleaning out the apartment finding remnants of the past. Talking with the cats trying to explain what's truly happening. Looking around trying to figure out what lead up to this particular situation and how I could have averted it. Swimming in the warm pool listening to the stressed screams of the coyotes surrounding me. They found a kill.
Various versions of myself. I wish my life weren't cut in such segments. It never seems to blend.
So I guess this is one of those cut and dry transitional phases. Where it ceases to blend and it just gets more and more abrupt. It's probably been like this for a while.
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