IT’S weird staring out to sea when not cast adrift in some existential crisis. Right now I’m feeling well anchored (as opposed to wankered: see 2008), but I’m keen to practise my new mindful skills and see if I can do bugger all for half an hour.
While my mind goes a-wandering and dogs come a-sniffing, I’m still pleased I manage to stay put. I get uncomfortable flashbacks to Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar, though, in which the protagonist sits by the sea one day and slowly loses her mind. I had to literally chuck the book away when I re-read it a month back, as though it was going to contaminate me this time ’round.
Keeper? Yes.
Hey man, now you're really living 
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