Something is trying to stop me from writing this blog. Twice now, the internet has crashed while I’ve been staring at this little white box. Maybe the world will explode if I post this. Let’s find out.
There’s something about being with the sea, and then being torn away from it, that makes me sad and reflective. I start thinking about how I am wasting my life, and how if I want to be near such pretty things, I need to initiate some Change, with a capital fucking C. There is nothing attractive about effort, however. Nothing at all appealing about Working Hard.
Let’s look at the pretty pictures and fall into them, if we can.
I could tell you about the funny things that were said, did and seen, but it wouldn’t make any sense, because you weren’t there. I could tell you what I liked, what I hated and what confused me, but it would mean nothing to you.
All I will say is this: I am never sleeping on the floor in a bag on a mat on a slant in the cold ever again.
Picture the beach at night in your mind and imagine you are standing there. Wade in up to your knees, take a deep breath, and let the worries of your day pour down your legs and into the sea. You are now ready to face the morning. Come back the following night and wade in again, this time a little deeper.
I will be waiting for you, just behind the next wave.
Trace your lights across the sky.
Tread carefully, for you tread on my dreams.
