Alex Tyler Meyers

The Book of Regrets

Every single night I stare at the same old, beautiful stars. Every night I lay in the sand, in this same, shallow trench that fits the curvature of my body to a T. Every night I lay here, and I daydream about what my life will be like when I finally make it. I think about all of the women that are going to want me. I think about the house that I’ll live in, overlooking the very beach that I lay on at this moment. I think about the cars that I’ll drive on Hollywood Boulevard, back and forth, and each time I spot a homeless person I’ll stop and give them money, and clothes on their back, and food in their stomach, and a hotel key. Every night, I lay here, under the pier on the beautiful Santa Monica Beach, and I daydream about success.