Blogs on the beach

Here I am, faithful reader. Still writing, still trying to figure out this strange-ass world of ours. Here I am, at 0700h (7a.m. to you clueless plebes) with a large glass of vodka/sprite (raspberry vodka if you must know) bubbling away in my gut, tapping away at the laptop, on a balcony looking over the beach. There is something .. extremely nice about all this. The Hikka Beach Fest is happening well to the North of me, I am down in Mirissa enjoying secluded beaches, crashing waves, vodka, and some rather nifty herb. Life, is good.

It is incredible isn't it, how we all seem to land at the beach at some time in our lives. Being born on an island in the sun this is not difficult. But, it's not that easy either. But that is probably a by-product of age. When I was younger I used to hop on the old velocipede and head down to Mount beach. Now, I actually have to make time to go there. How much suck is that? And even when I do go, i very rarely set foot in the sea itself. But spending this much time in close proximity to the sea gives me a good feeling. Reminds me that we have the same level of salt that is in the sea in our veins. Really, we do.. or they say we do.. but I don't advocate spilling any blood in the sea, or it's gonna be dun-dun.. dun-dun.. dun-dundun-dundun-dun JAWS!! Yes, thank you Peter Benchley and Steven Spielberg for completely fucking ruining my enjoyment of the sea. But I digress.

We all seem to love the sea. Maybe not those who got caught in the tsunami, but I certainly do. I could spend days by the sea, given enough connectivity and a water-proof laptop. Just sitting here watching the waves break, and the coconut trees move, and the salt wind in my face, makes it so awesome. There is something in the salt that calls to me. Urges me to get in there and start swimming to see if I can find the edge.

We are born of a womb of salt water, life crawled out of the salt, without salt in our diet we will die. But there is something that tells me that many of us, if we don't get our regular dosage of beach time would die. If not in our bodies, then in our souls.

I think one reason is that there is a certain chaotic power in the sea. Fire is chaos, but fire has no.. substance. It can't be touched, felt, be immersed in. As beautiful as it is, fire is just a treat fot the eyes. In the sea, you can get in there. Feel the strength with all your body, Know that she is wild, crazy, unpredictable. That she will cradle you. Carry you. Hold you. Then throw you at a rock at high speed. The sea is chaos incarnate. And we love her because we feel that in her. Something calls us back to the original chaos.

So here I am by the sea. Having an awesome morning looking at the sea, at a time when most of the people around me are asleep. There are five-foot curlers out there, and they make me wish I could surf. There are reefs to explore and shells to pick up. There are miles of beach to walk on, to leave footprints in the sand, to watch those footprints getting washed away. There is the attempt to forget that this is the end of my weekend out, and that I have to be back in the real world tomorrow.

And the sea calls to us. It calls to me. And if you'll excuse me, I have to put down the laptop and go for a date with a beautiful and extremely unpredictable woman.