Mixed messages… wait, no… clear messages… wait…

Nobody likes to move.  Fact.

Nobody dislikes moving more than me.  Speculation.

Proof:  I dislike moving so much…  I avoid buying normal things people use on a daily basis because I’m afraid of amassing a pile of junk I’ll need to move in the future.

Case in point:  I don’t own a cookie sheet.  The only reason I have silverware at all is because Joel felt so bad for my pathetic ass when he left, that he was compelled to leave some behind.  My apartment does not have a kitchen table, coffee table, toaster, spatula (making eggs is hilarious), television…  You get the idea.

If I’ve made you concerned about my well-being or left you thinking I’m pathetic, I’m sorry.  I assure you, I’m not.  Well, that’s like, my opinion, man.  I’ve managed to live with people who’ve had all these things for the first 28 years of my life, and haven’t found a need to collect the things we so loosely call “necessities” at this point.

SLAP!  Back on topic, Matt!  Sorry for the digression.

My point here is that I’ve recently come to terms with the fact that I’ll be moving away from the beach.  Sad.  So very sad.  This weekend the PTB (Powers That Be, remember?  Keep up people!) were either trying to make the separation anxiety kick up early, or they were trying to give me a show for one of my last few weekends here.  That show (read: Beautiful Sunset) is the subject of the images for today…  Now since it’s blistering cold elsewhere in the country, I won’t dwell on this too much, but I’d like to mention that this beautiful sunset came with a side of ridiculous wind.  A wind that ripped chills through bodies, ripped hoods off heads, and ripped feeling from hands gripping cameras.

Maybe that wind was part of the mixed message, but there’s more.  Just when I think there’s no way I can walk away from this lovely little beach town buried in big ‘ole L.A., I get the hint that I need to get the ford out of dodge…  PTB had me open my patio door at just the right time, which led to an introduction to my downstairs neighbors, or as I will now call them, the Ghost of Hermosa Future.  Ebenezer Matt introduced himself to the 42 year old New Yorker who now occupies the room directly below him (one of two roommates).  A perfectly polite gentleman.  What’s the problem Matt?  Well, since you asked, here’s the problem.  In the slightly invasive 5 minutes he spent walking through my apartment and telling me the differences between his and mine, he managed to bring up the fact that he’s been living in Hermosa for 16 years.  He moved here when he was a punky little 26 year old, and has been juggling roommates and living the beach life ever since.  A little strange you say?  Well consider the fact that some of his recent roommates were younger than he was when he moved here in the first place.  Jebus.

Old man neighbor is all well and fine, until you smash cut to 9PM last night.  Said 42 year old man is scream-talking to someone about some fight somewhere involving someone he knew.  “Bam! blah blah blah blah…  BAM!  muffle muffle muffle…  Knocked OUT!”

Welp sunset, you were pretty.  You are replaceable though.  The Ghost of Hermosa Future is powerful, and has opened my eyes.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not about rush into a responsible amount of responsibility or anything drastic like that.  I just know that there is more for me out there, and now it’s time to move on.  Hopefully moving on gets me closer to my lady, because she’s the missing link in the evolution of my life…

I hope you like the images below, I risked having my hands amputated to get them for you…

See which one I picked for the Image of the Day Project HERE