delusion

CAUTION: This hasn't even been read. I sat and I wrote it, on a napkin. I haven't had inspiration for weeks and then I wrote this. Saved for posterity.

Today, when the ocean and the California salt air were perfect, he played his guitar and I did handstands, leaned my heels into the door. We were alive. I looked at him and laughed and the ocean saw and crashed, like every other syncopated day day through which we lived or maybe died. I look through lens and on screens and in darkrooms - were living days of handstands and tanktops. I knew someday I would hear Pacific crashing waves and I would grab at empty space, chasing ghosts of days like today. Saved for posterity.

Tonight is realizing and remembering and recording.