I went to the beach to take a picture with my orb because I’m turly enjoying being artsy with this thing.
I had been itching to get out of the house, as always, and I didn’t know where to go, as always, and I was uncertain that I’d actually wind up at the beach until I actually got there. And even then, I wasn’t sure I’d get out of my car to take a picture.
[I’ve been in a funk. I don’t want to call it depression because I’m so fucking medicated how could it possibly be depression…but like, then what it is? Just me being a piece of shit?]
Uncertainty. It’s an ever-present force in my life, and it has been for a while.
But anyway, I got to the beach, got out of the car, walked down to the long stretch of sand, and took some pictures. It made me happy out of habit. It was a dulled sort of happiness. A happiness that shrugged and was just like “eh, this place makes me feel good so I guess I feel good.”
Then I walked a bit further to the water. I put my photography crystal ball thing down. Snapped one pic. Two pics.
Then I noticed the water getting closer to me. I grabbed the ball, and…couldn’t get up. Fuck fuck fuck.
I was soaked with ocean water before I had the time to curse myself for forgetting I have arthritis and can’t move normally but fuck, I still couldn’t get UP. I scooted up towards dry sand, and after (I shit you not) FIVE or so MINUTES, I was able to stand up like a normal human being, trek back to my car…
and start laughing hysterically as I snapchatted a friend to tell him what happened.
I drove back home listening to Disney music feeling as anxious as I’ve been feeling lately, but happier than the dull-happy I’d felt before getting overtaken by the ocean on this luckily-oddly-warm winter morning.
Life is weird and I’m grappling with it on a super-deep and weirdly existential level, I guess (why are we here, what is the point, what am I doing, why bother doing it)…but at least I got th play in the ocean today.