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Over morning surf...

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  • Over morning surf...


    I Read about MacGuffins on Wikipedia, but I’m kidding myself when I think I understand…

    Why do Seagulls keep me from pondering my way into depression? There’s nothing special about the gravel color of their wings, yet living without them would leave me abandoned of pink sand beaches and my childhoods caw.

    When I get a chance to see one, it happens (always) my feelings turn from resignation to pleasure, I’m less resentful to the passage of time, things I’ve lost turn romantic – awash in a breezy nostalgia ...

    Is it because we exude the same saltiness that spoils the freshness of the moon? I can’t abstain from the comforting notion I know is foolish – we are not connected, I can’t fly, and then slowly being away from the sea for a while things begin to fall out of place, I forget that depression is unfounded, time moves more easily and hatefully, the eternal falls out of juxtaposition with the fragile, symbols of nothing stop flowering and fade away, sand slipping through my hands without knowing my fingers…

    Flights full of wind, not asking what the ocean is - except ultramarine blue turned gravel when I try to find it, the Seagull my MacGuffin , if my biography would be written, could I be content in silence...
    Last edited by lunar glide; 06-20-2021, 04:15 PM.
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