The Socalette Slows the F Doooown, Even If For a Moment

So I’m only one person. In this swamp of possibly hundreds. Stuck in traffic on the 118 heading back to Oxnard. Today was only a three-hour home session in Simi Valley, but it seemed like an eternity, and now that I actually get a chance to relax from a busy week, I’ve been stuck here for nearly an hour and a half. Just when I thought life wouldn’t slow down, here I am on this God-forsaken truck-filled one-lane highway. It’s just you and me now, Alt-J.
   The time I’m stuck here has, at the very least, let me take some time to observe and re-appreciate the autumn sunset. What’s left of the now-hidden sun is a deep gold glow coming from the horizon, gradually fading to orange, green, teal, then an array of violets and blues, as the background light makes the eucalyptus and palms into eerie silhouettes in the distance.
   It’s beauty makes me speechless as my mind drifts into the unknown, and leaves preoccupations of work and play behind. Here’s where I get to breathe my first breath, and welcome serenity. I get so wrapped up in schedules and deadlines, that even lately it seems my yoga practice has been suffering. Lately, I find myself trying to make the excuse that “well, it’s not like I have anyone to do yoga with,” but quickly scold myself for knowing that others do no dictate my life and intentions. Those are poor excuses that lead way to a mediocre life. And if anyone knows me, they’d know I’m not about mediocre anything. Even if at times I accept laziness, silliness or rest, it’s by design. Nothing I do is by accident, but spontaneity is still existent in my life. However, I know now how to discern when it’s a good time for that and when it isn’t.
    And now, it isn’t. My car has crept about a mile now. Hmm I wonder what I’ll do this weekend between school and homework. Facebook time seems to be my only consolation here while I’m burning up gas on the road, as well as the wispy clouds that begin to form over the enigmatic trees. Just then, I get a text from W, inviting me to Hollywood tomorrow night for a film festival. With a deep breath, I weigh my options in my head. School is at 8am Saturday and Sunday this weekend, so the thought of being out at night before 5 tests freezes me. Then again, I do love festivals of sorts. Fuck it.
   “I’m down, what time?” I text her. “8pm at Chinese Theatre,” she sends back. Okay, that’ll give me a couple hours of volunteer time at OHS atleast.
   As the glow of orange fades to cerulean, traffic lightens up and I get closer to dinner and other preoccupations of C, the holidays, work, yoga, and the meaning of it all. Its beginning to be apparent that this weekend will not let me sleep, but that’s fine. I’m too young to sleep anyway. Tgif evra’body.
 The Socalette

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