"Cuban tapas, great sangria, and surrealist art"
recommendation posted on Fri, June 3, 2005 - 4:17 PM
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Age
35
about me
Sometimes I feels like I’m floating in the ocean at dusk. And it’s like I’m still wearing my clothes, and they cause a slight delay between when I move and when they catch up with me. This strange separation of movement and sensation that sometimes feels like fate, sometimes like disassociation.
I’m out beyond where the swells become waves, looking back to shore as the lights of the city wink on, and for once my mind is clear. My emotions are lit but not yet blazing, and life seems vivid and tangible, dreams possible. And that ingenious, simple plan for getting my life back together that I'd somehow forgotten about pops back into my head, and I feel truly alive. Until I wander too far into my thoughts, and a wave slaps salt water down my throat, and down I go, sputtering back to my animal brain. I come up coughing, gasping. Where am I? What's with these soggy clothes? How did I get so far out here?
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"Cuban tapas, great sangria, and surrealist art"
recommendation posted on Fri, June 3, 2005 - 4:17 PM
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