Sandbars and Pinwheel Sharks

The human relationship is a frigid and often deadly engagement. There are times when the human spirit can be snapped in-twain by the minor inflection of a word or a suspicious name brought to light in conversation. Relationships, once formed, never actually end. Long after wounded love turns to hate, you are still bound. You still think about one another whether you care to admit it or not, in some cases: often keeping tabs on what they're up to. Patronizing yourself with the burden of wanting to know how they're going along without you.

Even if the relationship is drowned out in a sea of others; it's still there, under the surface like a jagged reef waiting to slice your foot and call the sharks into frenzy. When you're lost in a sea of relationships it's always nice to have a sandbar to rest on when the waves pick up too much and the rip tide threatens to take you out to the blacker depths of the human mind. I have my sandbar, it's built on the love I've shared and given, the smiles I've made and forced and the hands I've held and the backs I've worked beside. This sandbar of mine is a warm, sun-baked mound in a sea of unfriendly mouths waiting to swallow your heart whole. My sandbar is not perfect by any means; pock marked with rocks and small drop-offs, it's still not a great fortress against the tide but that's the way I like it.

From my sandbar I build it, purge it and gaze upon the lucid sea of other faces; watching as lives interlock like the fingers of young lovers and beholding the inevitable breaking of the hand. To me, people are as beautiful as they are disgusting. The beauty of people is how they remain so beautiful even when they perform the most revolting acts. Even the act of making love is a violent and putrid act. Even in the most primal and affectionate embrace, one can find horror and a naked vulnerability. The smell of it is so horrid compared to the beautiful sound of breathing. The soft touch of skin compared to the decadent buzz on the back of your neck. This simple embrace can break apart a sandbar or hold it together. The sea has no mercy for lovers as it would seem, it swallows them up like gnarled driftwood and take you away from your haven, dragging you farther and farther away from your sandbar.

Once again, I can barely find meanings in my own writings, hardly seeing through a veil made of both my selective memory and guilt. I find no solace in what I write, no escape from my sharks. But hopefully they help you find your sandbar.