Tuesday, July 20, 2010
As in adolesence, as in every century's adolescence. I'll live to see 2030 definitely. Will I see 2070? 2080? Do I want to live to see 2080? Meh. World's just getting nicer - more gentrification, now health care, less poverty. Leaning towards socialism, when Indians are all rich and happy and bodies don't float in the Ganges.
The sun sparkles on the diamondy water. Sailboats are like flags on the horizon. Muddled and in the vague distance, stray cumulus clouds hover in place. And the sun always fracturing into a hundred million gems, dissolving in the vast waste of distance.
Dayboats plough the ocean with jets of spray on their sides. I taste the salt on my lips.
Sea birds swoop. Barges truck. Faucets cry. Loose cirrus strands expand like a nebula.
Everywhere the sea does the same things, bobs and floats cresting; but nowhere is it the same. Like humanity. That's why we love the sea: because it reminds us of us.