WARNING: The following post exhibits death and decay.
A contentious dialogue is simmering in Long Beach. I'm waiting for it to boil over.Is the trash lining the beach like toxic shells the breakwater's fault? Is it the fault of urban run-off crapped out by the L.A. River? Are they both equally responsible?
What ever it is, I'm tired of living in a scum pit.
I left my apartment around 7:30 a.m. on Tuesday, June 10. Armed with my camera, I decided to head toward the Belmont Veteran's Memorial Pier. Mist splashed on my face. Clouds convened and blocked out the blue of the sky.
A perfect day.
While strolling through the neighborhoods I observed tiny details, I searched for anything to photograph, but I failed to find something interesting.
I saw small pieces of artwork in the city's crevasses. I witnessed a familiar homeless man rummaging through garbage and city employees replanting greenery on the center divider of Livingston Drive.
A theme finally took hold when I reached the sand and I had no choice but to commit.
Trash.
Shit.
Stink.
Death.
The slide show below reveals truths many of us already know, but maybe it's healthy to see in order to remember.
Long Beach is my last stop. From here I will move on to live then die somewhere outside of California's toilet.
Enjoy.
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