Airplanes where roaring by above us in already polluted air like we were sea creatures on the bottom of a muddy ocean with big, metal submarines travelling up from the gutter just to inhale another gasp of bright sunlight before diving back into what would be another year of hoping that next year will be better and perhaps even one of the best.
As if we could caress the soft wave crushing down on our favourite memory, it being the everlasting metaphore of a beach of love, passion and fearless breathing. Waking up with the releaving thought that there were no big changes today, no master plans in process, no boring edge where the good times had to stop and the spinning ferris wheel had a sign with open hours.
Just perfection in shape and aim as we were a billiard ball rolling across a green, green perfect life only to explode into a vertical pyramide of others just like us. No loss, no longing, just the realisation that many years later we would look back on this time and say:
"I knew that as i was having them, that these ocean days were some of the best anyone could ask for and as roily and dreggy they seemed at times; the water i swallowed was as fresh and clear as it had come from frozen stars that humans wouldn't travel to within a 1000 years. Even then they would move across this sea ground, only to try and get deeper down into what would be a splendid beauty of fire from the inner glow of the very planet we all live and smile on."
