Night wind, my beloved

It is about 3 am when I fall (or am thrown) into the sea.  I hadn’t drunk much; I guess it simply was one of those things I had wanted to happen. As I get out, it is a bit cold, and my long sleeves and trousers drenched in salty water make me look like a pooch who’s just jumped into a pool. Not that the other party goers on the beach seem to care much, yet it’s not exactly comfortable.

As I (half naked) make my way to the car to get my dry clothes, I notice that there’s already two naked people in it, presumably engaging in sex. After wandering a bit around, I decide not to care, and while looking the other way I go back and reach for my bag, excusing myself. To get changed, there’s another friend’s car, and that’s where I go; surprise surprise, this one too has people in it having some fun, and not the monopoly kind of fun.

This leaves me with no choice but to get changed in the middle of a gas pump, pondering on how I am seemingly stuck as being “the one that interrupts”.

The dry, informal clothes I now wear feel natural and comfortable. I walk next to the cliff, leading to the the steep fall down to the sea, shielded by a net. As a pleasant night wind runs through my hair, I observe the pier at the horizon; a huge mechanical compound, its arms sticking out into the sea, as if dragging its bottom in search of something to prey upon . All I can think of is our greedyness; yet the image of this rough contraption and the long line of lampposts defining the coast at regular intervals seem to blend perfectly with the gentle profile of the rocks running up to the mountains.
Down at the beach, loud repetitive music provides an appropriate accompaniment to this composition; a group of people sluggishly dancing, or perhaps droning to it, the most fitting image I can equate to this being that of flies swarming mindlessly around a light, drugged and mystified by it, yet, perhaps, in ecstasy.

No, I do not feel that I am a better being than they are. Just, sometimes, I am glad I am a perpetual outsider. Sitting on the railing I enjoy the night air, alone.

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