2:30 AM at the Beach

There is no news or information in this blog. If you are here just for that, this post has no meaning to you.

Everyone is asleep but me.

The rough sea breeze is pushing in as I face out toward the Gulf of Mexico 5 stories up 100 feet away from the murkiest ocean water in America. It's around 84 degrees and I seem to be the only person to exist right now. No one is in the lobbies as I roam save for a tired looking pretty-lady and the front desk...she's hired to be pretty. No one by the pool or in the jacuzzi. No one on the paths or on the beach - not that I can see very far in any direction. The one thing that exists here that I don't see anywhere that I live (either Houston or Nashville) is darkness...real darkness. I don't think I've seen stars this bright in years minus a few camping trips I've managed to take.

No one reads these blogs anyway. I think I'm writing this for myself at this point. No one cares or comments. So hell, I'm just going to keep typing til I'm content.

This breeze is the best gotdamn thing I've felt in ages. Ive got this comfy Tommy-Bahama looking button-up on that's made out of...well the tag doesn't say...all it tells me is that it was made in India. I'm surrounded by darkness with a little bit of flashing light behind me from the TV I forgot to turn off outside. I got a cigar in my pocket that I won't smoke tonight because at this point it is too late for me to be able to enjoy the entire thing before feeling too tired. Tomorrow.

Humidity like this is unnatural. Its like living in a cloud. Even when the air is still, it is tangible. It smells like the sea - that not-so-perfume of the ocean, decaying matter, mud, living creatures, salt, and mounds of seaweed washed up on the shore to just sit there and smell. Its a danky yet comfortable smell. It brings back memories and thoughts and feelings that I rarely remember or explore.

The stars and the lights far off in the Gulf from oil rigs and traveling iron behemoths on the water remind me how small I am. In an infinite world I am but a dot that is infinitely small. The idea is a little crazy. Keeps me humble.

I'm not going to sleep, I'm not done thinking yet, but I'm done writing.

If anyone reads this, be good.

Tre