The beach man
A deep breath, and I’m afloat.
We lead complicated lives don’t we? And most of the time its because we choose to I think. We choose complication and hustle over blissful simplicity. I’m not saying would choose the latter, but I wonder how would my life be if I could choose it.
To live your entire life in a simple place, by the beach in a hut, or at the edge of the sky and earth. Making enough to eat, and spending the remaining time watching the clouds or talking to the little kid who comes by everyday to see the “beach man”
Yea, that’s what they’ll call me, the beach man. Fuzzy, large Indian man living in a hut by the beach.
No one knows when he showed up, but he’s become a fixture around here.
I heard he once had dreams of a big city life, full of fast cars and not enough hours in the day. I heard he actually wanted to be an advertising exec. But then one day he showed up at this beautiful beach, where the sky exploded with magic at sunset. He never left.
I’ll make friends with the farmer who lives down the road from the beach, and ill eat at his house. He would give me watermelons and come down to the beach to have a smoke with me. We would talk about how in his day the beach stretched on for miles, and he would tell me all the legends of the area. Then he would pat me on the back, give me a warm smile and walk slowly back to his farm, whistling an old show tune.
I would be there for a long, long time I think. One day I’ll notice white hairs growing out of my beard and say to my self “Too fast. Way too fast” Then I would lean back on the sand and watch the magic show the sky has prepared just for me.
And when the time comes, I will lay my silver gray afro down on the sand to sleep, and not wake up. They’ll say I’ve finally joined the magical sky that I’ve been watching all my life. Someone will say they’ve seen me up there, flying among the clouds, a glint of white against the purples and reds. I’ll join the ranks of the legends of the area and people will tell wandering travelers about me.
“Hey, have you heard the story about the beach man?”
“No”
“Let me tell you, it’s a pretty good one”
Yea, that’s it, that’s my life. Not too shabby eh?
We lead complicated lives don’t we? And most of the time its because we choose to I think. We choose complication and hustle over blissful simplicity. I’m not saying would choose the latter, but I wonder how would my life be if I could choose it.
To live your entire life in a simple place, by the beach in a hut, or at the edge of the sky and earth. Making enough to eat, and spending the remaining time watching the clouds or talking to the little kid who comes by everyday to see the “beach man”
Yea, that’s what they’ll call me, the beach man. Fuzzy, large Indian man living in a hut by the beach.
No one knows when he showed up, but he’s become a fixture around here.
I heard he once had dreams of a big city life, full of fast cars and not enough hours in the day. I heard he actually wanted to be an advertising exec. But then one day he showed up at this beautiful beach, where the sky exploded with magic at sunset. He never left.
I’ll make friends with the farmer who lives down the road from the beach, and ill eat at his house. He would give me watermelons and come down to the beach to have a smoke with me. We would talk about how in his day the beach stretched on for miles, and he would tell me all the legends of the area. Then he would pat me on the back, give me a warm smile and walk slowly back to his farm, whistling an old show tune.
I would be there for a long, long time I think. One day I’ll notice white hairs growing out of my beard and say to my self “Too fast. Way too fast” Then I would lean back on the sand and watch the magic show the sky has prepared just for me.
And when the time comes, I will lay my silver gray afro down on the sand to sleep, and not wake up. They’ll say I’ve finally joined the magical sky that I’ve been watching all my life. Someone will say they’ve seen me up there, flying among the clouds, a glint of white against the purples and reds. I’ll join the ranks of the legends of the area and people will tell wandering travelers about me.
“Hey, have you heard the story about the beach man?”
“No”
“Let me tell you, it’s a pretty good one”
Yea, that’s it, that’s my life. Not too shabby eh?