Thursday, July 14, 2005

Episode 2

By the light of a small gas lamp, I'm writing tonight. I can't sleep. I find myself staring up at the stars, wishing I still had friends to talk to. I can lay down below and close my eyes, but my thoughts cut through the drowsiness and I am forced awake. I'm regretting so much of my past. But the scent of the ocean seems to be carrying it all away. I thought by now I'd be in complete despair. But there seems to be a strange sort of hope filling my spirit. Could it be the bright moon on a cloudless night? Is it the gentle swelling of the salty waves? I can't really tell right now. The whole world seems beautiful and I can't stop wondering how it all came to be. Still close to shore, I can see tiny points of light where land is. Occassionally, a dot of light will float over the surface of the water, headed toward the open ocean, into the stars. I like to imagine myself on one of those ships, working at sea for a living. I'd come home smelling like fish and rope and salt and grease. While at sea, I'd be longing to see land again. While on land, I'd be craving the rocking of the ocean waves in a thunderstorm. I'd be wishing for another close call. There would be nothing better than the dash of adrenaline that is felt after almost flying over the side of the ship.


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