the angry sea exonerates me as it spits me out, somewhat battered after a wild encounter with it's undercurrents, mammoth waves and chaotic nature. i stagger back towards the shore looking around me i realise i am the only single person who is in the surf. i knew i wouldn't catch any waves but i just needed to wake up and get wet.

later i bump into my friend monique who is off to meditate upon her next painting. i see her art around the town, it's really good, part fairy, nature and spirals, always white and snow like. we chat about the surf, she's already been in. monique swims every day, she's quite the dolphin and a much better swimmer than i. her friend peter is also an amazing swimmer, he's also my chiropractor. after my swims i always enjoy chatting with them and laughing, these mornings have been very nice lately, as we flirt from subject to subject. i like their politics, almost in alignment with my own. 

back home i watch douglas murrey on you tube, possibly the most intelligent political commentator at the moment. he gets about and few dare challenge his arguments for fear of being humiliated i guess. later some joe rogan, dan borngonnio and a documentary about aliens. between books i can't decide what to read next, choice paralysis as my piscean nature kicks in, it's a very tricky process. in the old days i would just grab something and start reading it, but now the whole thing causes me endless anxiety. i guess it's tied up with time and mortality. as i age i understand time is finite subjectively, therefore i want to saviour it and not waste so much of it reading second rate stuff, although nothing around me is really second rate. it's just priority.

later i do some boxing, half hour of intense movements and channelling anger. it's good but in the heat i find myself exhausted and covered in sweat. where's that ocean i think, ironically.