in the face of sea, or of the shore where my feet can go and sink in the wet sand and occasionally get covered with froth, in the face of what i always thought was God or holy, something that would immediately transport my body-mind into this space of blessedness and appreciation and quiet that everything that was complex and laced with errors would, by some magic means, dissapear, as if dreamt or imagined and then forgotten, washed away gently into the horizon
well, that moment is no longer the case in this moment.
i find myself standing, feet sinking in the wet sand and wondering when IT will come and then, ashamed of the concept, abandoning the idea before it turns into desperation.
the hint of something that can be lost should perhaps remain a riddle. it is enough to notice ones obsessions but to be obsessed over our own actions is an invitation into a world of repetition, a propagation of the idea called sin that goes on eating itself and all who sin.
the sea remains the same, behaves the same - wild, sometimes optimistic and shining. i'm just a bit sad about the loss of some of that stardust magic, wide-eyed heart bursting into all thats possible, screaming with lungs exploding like the whole universe depended on it. its not the same. something else is happening.