I can update so rarely. This draft is from August!
Children growing up in loving families take for granted that everything is going to be alright. They may be terrified of small things like barking dogs or sudden noises, or being called a baby by others.
But when it comes to the big scaries, for them it is happily clear that their parents can stop any old tidal wave heading their way. And often, metaphorically, we can. We sure would happily die trying!
But some things are stronger than us.
Sea currents, say.
Or disappointments not addressed for weeks, months, years. The pain of changing and feeling unseen as the person you’ve proudly become.
It’s the hottest month in Cyprus. I float happily face down in shifting water. My ears and my mind are both filled with currents.
The tingling of a million pebbles forever looking for their place in the order of things.
I can make out dim outlines of little fishes quickly swimming past. My body is pulled and pushed by impatient waves. The archaic appetite of this mass wants to suck in me, my family.
My most beloved friends. Every body on this beach, this coast, warm and sweaty and fragile. And at the end, all alone.
Some things are stronger than us.
But which things?
https://open.spotify.com/track/6bewkREJxEPKRYZcypacXm?si=qNjGvXqZQyaJ4SaZJ1opNA Music for floating in warm sea water during the hottest month of the year
Something to Write Home About 