I dragged myself down 16th Street to the beach and cheered up as soon as I got there. It was much cooler on the beach than on the street, it was windy and even lightly raining for some of the time.
I love that when you follow the line of the sea as it touches the sky you can almost see the curve of the earth. I forget that we live on a planet, I am not sure we do, I think we might have made it all up.
I brought Richards IPOD out to the beach with me and I was listening to Pulp, A Different Class. I love Jarvis's northern accent, it reminds me of shagging boys behind pubs in Preston when I was a kid, entirely unrewarding persuit I might add. Not sure why I persisted with sex after getting off to such a lack lustre start but I suppose you just do. The triumph of optimism over experience.
Anyway you would get to New York eventually if you kept walking North on the beach so I set myself the target of walking to the rocks instead. New York is cold now, Leonard Cohen said that and so did Richard last night.
The beach was pretty quiet today, the sea looked very deep and dark in places by the rocks. I thought about getting in but it looked a little rough and I was feeling a little fragile.
Seagulls are allowed to fish though just not people
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