Walking along the beach
When I want to escape into my thoughts and away from the stresses of the life I am having to live, for the most part away from the country I grew up in and my many friends, now spread throughout Europe and in the United States and Canada. The beach here is quite long, and it can be lonely early in the morning, especially on a Winter's morning. You see dog walkers, some omit collecting their pooch's doings. You see the seniors sitting on the benches looking out to see, or into town. Others walk hand in hand, but I am alone in my thoughts.
The depths offshore reflect those in my mind, and I meander the varied detritis left on the sands. Tennis balls looking as lonely and unuseful as I feel, and I look for a friendly face to try to reflect on, or drown in. It is like biting into a stale sandwich. You are vulnerable because everyone can see your scars.
The depths offshore reflect those in my mind, and I meander the varied detritis left on the sands. Tennis balls looking as lonely and unuseful as I feel, and I look for a friendly face to try to reflect on, or drown in. It is like biting into a stale sandwich. You are vulnerable because everyone can see your scars.
