My happy place
I'm standing on a beach, near a light house. The air is refreshing, but not chilly. The breeze carries the unique smell of the sea, salt and seaweed, freedom and complexity. Grains of salty sand fly here and there, whipping my face softly, making me feel like I'm born sixty times a minute. The sea tenderly licks the rocks, leaving it's weedy saliva behind.
I feel whole and I feel at home. The sun's slowly going to bed, whispering rays of secrets and empty words; the sky turns red. I wait for the wind and it finds me, talks to me. I am the sea, the world is mine.
I jump in the cold water, my clothes cling to my skin. I become liquid stars and stretch my pulse and flesh all over the sea: I can now hear the world turning and you can hear my heart beating in the lonely moments of your life.
That is my happy place.
I feel whole and I feel at home. The sun's slowly going to bed, whispering rays of secrets and empty words; the sky turns red. I wait for the wind and it finds me, talks to me. I am the sea, the world is mine.
I jump in the cold water, my clothes cling to my skin. I become liquid stars and stretch my pulse and flesh all over the sea: I can now hear the world turning and you can hear my heart beating in the lonely moments of your life.
That is my happy place.