Beach Day Drive with the Gas Tank Empty

“God. Imagine that. For things. To just be. Good.

Lost in the ever-increasing rotation of my own thoughts, the sun finally began its silky melt into the calming extent of the horizon.

I loved that sight, soothing and satisfying always. The post-dusk glow illuminated the beach and my respectful sand neighbors began making their way back into the world. I was tempted to join them, but I continued to sit, staring at the wondrous wet night before me.

I just sat there, lost in a land constructed of the desires of my unmet longing. New thoughts, new longings, I stored in that place called California, not wanting to return to the scattered shower monstrosity that I usually referred to as my life.

As that familiar twilight faded into the emptiness of night, I sat. Listening to the sound of that soothing sea, letting it wash over the frayed nerve endings in that vessel. I closed my eyes and drifted back to my California daydream, lost in lust and longing, just where I wanted to be.

And for that briefest of reprieves, the world of attachments out there would cease to be. There, alone, on my beach. Just me, my imagination and the inexplicable beauty of the natural wonderments.

It was good because it just was. Freedom, momentary thought with no attachments. Alone lost love. With no worries, no fears. Just being. Soaked up to drip dry in the ever reaching golden fantasy of a realm I could only sense and feel from the depths of somewhere untouched. Sense and feel. Freedom. Alone lost love. No fears. Just being good. Being. Good.”