Coastal dreams of Crucita... Sunsets to set your heart by... A lifetime to reminisce.
The day the turtle washed up was a sad one. Its huge green shell somehow seemed paler in death and its scaly skinned face and limbs lay languid, like he'd just decided to *stop* at that precise moment. I thought I should take a moment to share some words, a farewell. Standing, head bowed, I tried to think of something fitting to say.

An interuption, somehow predictable, in the form of a rabid looking, so-skinny-I-could-see-its-bones, dog wandered over, sniffed at the unmoving reptile...then proceeded to Wee all over it. Quite comfortably. Satisfied, he sniffed one last time and sauntered over to the fishing boats.

Somehow...the moment for paying my respects was redundant.

Back to the sea.

Goodbye Turtle.

The lights go on...

Nothing makes sense anymore and suddenly I'm transported to this place. A nonsensical, unthinkable moment of truth. Defined by the manner in which I accept it. But do I? This is a turning point. A major crossroads. Then why does it seem like there is no choice to be made?

I keep coming back to that poem...John Clare....I Am.

"Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,
Into the living sea of waking dreams,
Where there is neither sense of life nor joys,
But the vast shipwreck of my life's esteems;.............


.....I long for scenes where man has never trod;"

Nothing else makes sense. Started a new journal last night. A New Beginning. Even my dreams are becoming predictable and my reaction to those reactions...worse, maybe beyond understanding.