Thursday: Really, Really Long Walk on the Beach

More pain, more numbness in the left side of the face.
After dreams forgotten, mundane/unreal, I sprang for plans.
The Kashi® biscuits, of course without milk.
The changing of clothes.

More sitting in the car.
New symptoms disclosed, yet what’s addressed before made it.
The new issues, in a “laundry list,” would be forgotten.
After more deadlocking and useless appointments, I had it.

I could walk miles, but’d take too many hours.
Online, I found the usual suspects, and a zero.
I have more enemies than I know.
I chose the restroom over scraps of minutes remaining.

Wal-Mart. Younger folk with children; older without.
The sun came at an angle that the visor couldn’t block.
Bad timing cut me off, and I wasn’t going to remain seated.
So I walked the beach.

Luckily, the sand was brief; I could walk on flatter turf.
Frustrated, mashed music in pointless existence; NIN, other.
What I was doing in my life wasn’t working, so I kept going.
I walked far. How’s that for exercise?!

I saw couples, dogs, children. I live in a form of hell.
I stretched, a bit late. Some thigh pain showed anyway.
I saw sand-figures and a green light array.
I heard and saw a helicopter to my right.

The fireworks were my only obstacle; I wasn’t going further.
I turned around, and ignored the length of walking distance.
I heard a train.
The bug that followed, got in face: killed via hands.

It got dark; the moon and stars were out.
I walked so far I couldn’t tell exactly where I started.
Commercial and residential lights, night activity.
Some trial & error was used on finding the path leading out.

Two tracks reveal a vehicle collapsed the vegetation.
No more advantage of not getting sand in my shoes.
Barriers cut this way off, like levies.
Going down one futile way, I could get mugged today.

I could say, I have no money on me.
Who’d believe the fact I have no money.
Yet I have nothing to lose but a flash drive of news.
Back to the beach.

Blue containers every now and then.  Trash?
More couples — their walk on the beach at night.
Some people would just continue sitting in chairs.
Little droplets from the ocean hit my arm.

I couldn’t make out people. (Completely.)
I saw a small, unused, beached little sea craft.
With a different walkway, I got to pavement.
Another place I could get mugged. Doesn’t matter.

More walking, just now down the street.
The car was gone.
So I walked even more, now down the sidewalk.
Three silvery cars.

Blue containers beach-wise, blue recycle bins here.
Some of those blocked the way.
A rental house, active. Weird.
I found the car, empty. Weird.

The person that was in the car is looking for me.
And more got involved, over no one having flashlights.
This single walk was nearly two hours.
And now I was back in the car.

The pain never goes away. Physical and emotional.
And I would continue crushing myself.
I would feel that feeling in my center.
The different ways I find myself worthless.

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