The whirling blur hope my head is very vague. And they are many, and are tough. But I am still full of energy waiting to go completely in a minimum discharge as static electricity from any touch anxious to move on. Frantic wobble at certain times of my life. The tide rises and falls. Turns my stomach. Rises again, and then down. And again. At sea, there may be a more consistent swing, less stirrer. But the thrill is gone. The waves hit, they wallow, they removed the swimsuit, we drown in full seconds. Tricolor waves that hit that plunge, to take and bring that killed secretly. What to do when we are deep inside, and peace in the ocean, missing the clatter of waves and the fickleness of the tides? What if what makes us happy is leading us and not the place where we go?
Happiness is a state of mind.
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