Alone Day

Today was my day off so I solo traveled to: Oceanside, Encinitas and some other places, The first photo is on the SD bay from the strand, and the rest are from my adventure today. I got on the bus on the strand at 6:30, then let off near America Plaza downtown, caught the Blue Line to old town, got there then hopped on the 150 to UCSD, where I then jumped on a Sprinter the 101, which takes you all the way from La Jolla to Oceanside, so I took it all the way there straight along the coast. On the way back I pulled the string on places that seemed interesting. I hit up the Oceanside pier, then took a nap at this really cool park in Encinitas where a buttload of kids were fighting over a ball and saying that its only a three player game. Woke up and then stumbled upon a really cool renovated project where theres a little oulet or "pond" thats where the picture of me (below) is at, there I had another memo moment (which is why theres an excerpt on the photo). I had a real nice time today, even though it was by myself. Oh and one more thing, there was this lady on the 101 southbound that said something interesting today: "The Equations, the equations are all around us!" As she moved her arms to fit the form of two parallel lines and then her fingers to create a box. I don't think shes that crazy, shes right after all. No one wanted to sit next to her, I was fine just watching from the other side as well. Girl put a smile on my face.

Coronado (Silver Strand/Bayside)

An altercation of work by an unknown artist of Encinitas, CA

Oceanside Pier

Oceanside Pier

Me in Secret Spot!
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Here is the memo or as my creative writing teacher, Lacey likes to call "Stream of Conciousness" piece from today:

Beautiful

I might not know who I am at this specific point in time. I might not know who I am at all. Although given the space, the energy, I will hope that someday I will become more than a little dark-haired child-mouth full of silver teeth on the 101.

As I collide up these southern costal waters I begin to wonder about its cities fathers, and what really makes fathers fathers. It’s like a humming tick of a ceramic depot in Encinitas, as my 6 dollar watch ticks right along together.

I remember that I am not alone, but together, along with my many precarious narrations. I am unsure with train tracks to my right and an ocean at my left, which will get me to where I want to go faster. I am unsure, but in uncertainty lay vulnerability. I hold no heart that of any addicted sinner, of which they claim the world to be full of. I am one of those civilians that soldiers died for. Wide-eyed and cautious, yet bright-witted and unfocused.

I told the elder, the Cuban woman whose memory escapes her—that my name is Amanda, but in these seconds she retains the impulse of kindness to say that I was beautiful. Seconds after, she is retracted and then asks me my name yet a second time.

I am Amanda. I am not broken but I am withered of America and its imperfect obsessions, altercations of a beautiful reality. & as I approach the Oceanside, I must remember that this is my happy life only forgetting to smile. An abstract reaction that recesses to the sand as a wave pulls at my feet. & just like a storm raging over the earth—things can seem much quieter, still and content from within it’s foci.