• Surfing - A Wave's Point of View

  • Well well well,what do we have here? You're a little far from shore,ar'ent you? Betwixed beach and breakers is no place for someone like yourself, such as things are. I draw closer and note your profile, black-suited, straddling something slightly submerged. You seem distracted my friend, unaware of the true nature of elements below, and in avery short time, above and behind.

    Have not we been here before,you and I?. Me, primal, majestic flanks rising i roll, servant of the winds slave of the tides. You, a black-pudding balloon creature bobbing like a rubber turd on your plank, awaiting inevitable pain and humiliation. C'mon man, level with me here, what are you really getting out of this little hobby of yours hmmm?. Pleasure, excitement? A feeling of being at one with the ocean? Together with your board feet firm slicing down the curve, an untamed energy, a moving mountain of water,y ou walk nae fly in the face of convention. A maverick, a rough-riding renegade, women want you men want to be you. This blue foaming essence your stage,your life your...............a hopeless twat.

    I have seen more direction and bouancy in a seagull carcass, however, I digress, seems an aquaintance is attempting to signal from yonder beach. He appears somewhat animated, jumping and pointing, all in flap at something. Ah,he has your attention, your head turns and now you have mine.

    How could i discribe that face Dear Reader? Scared yet strangely hopeful fits the picture.

    Oway, cast in my shadow your world grows yet still darker, instincts take the lever. Like some demented clockwork toy your limbs begin to spastically harvest the swell before me in a futile attempt to'catch this wave'. Prayer is no use now my little Queerfish, you have more short-comings ,t han a Dwarf porn star. For all that rises turns to chaos, i must fall on thee. Ragged garments in a spin cycle we turn and turn again. An ankle ambilical to board now guillotine, damacleus it toss and spin down to nape and man, or not. Inside me now ye features all tumble and gurn, thine carriage a marmalade of misgivings, bottom beach batterings between devil and deep blue ensue, you have no mummy.                                                              
    Crest cappucino all bubbled out we arrive at the shallows. A sand-sunk wreckage you retch, gasp, cry for joy, stand and punch the air, you have learnt nothing it will always be thus. My work is done, ebb checks flow i retreat to gather again, but do not count on me for i will always mount upon you. I was borne to surge, while you were.........oh forget it!

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