Brine

My son has the brine of the sea on him. I can smell it as we lay curled together on the hard bed in this borrowed house. I like it here. I have laughed more this day than I have all holidays.

I like the salt in the air, the waft of it left in the well of the sink, caught in my sunscreened elbows. I like the sand too. Gritty under my feet on the floorboards. Preferable to the trudging mud of home.

I like the drive. Windows down, all of us straining to get the first glimpse of blue as we crest the hill.

I see it! I see the ocean! There mum!

My daughter’s round nosed face always turned towards it like a beacon. So much like me, her curls whipping around her face. Smiling into the breeze, with grit in her teeth.

Sometimes I wonder if it would lose its magic, this restless beast, it we lived next to it all year round. I don’t think so. The crash calls to me. I want to walk into the sucking tide, just to see where it would take me. Roar my challenge to the wind and take a running dive. I used to just swim straight out into the sea when I was young, and the water makes me feel that reckless again. As though I am all heart, not trapped in this wide, painful vessel.

I was a lion once, I tell the sea as I pace its soft fine shore.

You could be again, it replies.

I’m writing a book!

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Yeah you read that write (haha).

I tried last year to write one and I liked it, I had fun yadda yadda.  But trying to write a piece of fiction with plot, characters and narrative traction is just not gonna happen with my current mental state. So move over Diary of  Wimpy Kid, cos here comes one for the grown ups.  What’s that you say? An excerpt? Why I really couldn’t, ok then, if you insist! I mean I know you probably didn’t, but I like it better my way.

Sometimes I wonder how I would appear in a court room (it’s only a matter of time).
Like not on what charge, that’s the beauty of being me, I don’t worry about the big stuff. But how people would see me. I have finally settled on charismatic and witty with the power to rip someone’s head off with my intellect.
We’re talking me, on my best day. It’s a good mix.
Step 1: Make the jury laugh and warm up the room (my life is one long comedy festival).
Step 2: Tear apart the slimy lawyer.
Step 3: Saunter out of the court room after slapping the witness box and announcing ‘case closed’.
Step 4: Probably go to jail.
Do you love it already? Cos I do and that’s all that really matters.  It’s my book and it’s keeping me from pulling out all my toe nails.  Besides, my motto is Do The Thing.  Do it now.  Life is short or bug arse long depending on your current mindset. You may as well spend it doing entertaining things.  Cross off the bucket list now. Cos tomorrow we might all blow up.  Or melt down.  I mean, it depends on what happens first.  Whether a world leader presses the big red button or the planet boils.  Either way, grab a glass of wine, decapitate a butterfly, paint that picture, do a cross stitch with all 6 strands of cotton. LIVE. It’s kinda what we’re here for.
X Bon.