Pondering life from a log on the beach

People have been asking me what I have been up to lately. I struggle to rearrange the truth to something more riveting and adventurous when the real truth is, I often sit on the beach down in haumoana, alone, at 10.30 at night, mainly because I have few friends here, or any friends that are not unconvincingly self proclaimed spontaneous people. Ya know, it’s pretty undignified, scrambling across a vast array of shingle and rocks back to your car alone after a night spent pondering your worth in front of the millions of stars scattered across the night sky, illuminating an honest representation of who I am.

I am or I feel alone. it’s an arduous realisation to have in those hours of self reflection and quiet maelstrom of waves rippling across the low tide lines. 

I guess this is the way it was meant to happen. The slow reasoning to my underlying knowledge that I will be leaving again and perhaps the day for new adventures is not in the too distant future. When I thought about coming back here, I was excited and now, perhaps the only way to respond is to leave. 


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