When I first arrived in Ocean Beach, I couldn’t sleep for shit. I hadn’t been sleeping well for quite some time. My nights were filled with nightmares and panic. Shooting up straight out of bed with a gasp, straight from sleep to fight-or-flight. Like there was a 200 pound Saber-Tooth tiger rumbling outside my cave. Every ..single..night.
I found myself watching the sun come up every morning. I would head toward the ocean, tasting the salt of this new paradise on my lips. A big, doofy dog, happy to join me. I would walk alone…speaking only to apologize if another early riser was molested by aforementioned doofy dog. I would sit and watch the surfers paddle out. I would pet that dog. I would call the face that was haunting me. Willing him to call me had become a waste of time.
One day, a friendly face I had begun to notice regularly on those early mornings, struck up a conversation. She asked me if I was an Obecian. I had no idea what she was talking about. I found it quite odd. But there is a lot of “odd” in Ocean Beach and there are a lot of lost souls who can’t sleep – picking at and mumbling to themselves. I gave her a funny look and she told me an Obecian was someone who lived in Oceach Beach. It was still a question I couldn’t answer just yet.
Read more about my crazy journey.