Day 12:
Waves crash. That's what they do. Their roar is soothing. It drowns out the ringing. And kind of grimly, any who get sucked into its tide as well. Sitting at a relatively safe distance from these spectacular crashes I can easily see how people might let their guards down too far before the ebbs suddenly turn upward into swelling flows and seize upon them in utter surprise.
I'm here at La'ie Point. I've just been walking around and resting for an hour or so sitting on the rocks. It's not a large place, but the view is pretty amazing. The camera won't do it justice. But that doesn't stop a photographer from directing an anxious and surely happy couple on their wedding day toward the most scenic backdrop. I chuckle as I wonder how that goofy mug ended up with that Hawaiian beauty.
In other reflections, I mean no disrespect to the elderly, and I only say this because it is true in honest reflection of myself. I feel old. Not physically per se. Physically I'm probably healthier than I've ever been. I'm stronger and more capable than ever, even though my head still hurts and my ears still ring. But regardless I am here this day watching waves crash and I am more reflective than I've been for awhile. In reflection a person tends to feel a lot. And like I said, the primary feeling swelling up in me at this time is that I feel old. What does this mean? I don't really know. Words are evading me right now.
One could argue that there is little accomplished in staring at the ebbs and flows of the tide for hours. Maybe that is true. So, I will not begin to defend myself, but rather I'll simply admit that I am nothing more than an addict to the scenes of nature. A terrible vice really. The contemplation of immutable principles perfectly acting out their perpetual scenes within the brief window of a mortal guise is more than enough to drive a man mad! Or anyone who dares reflect in these depths, for that matter. I haven't decided yet if this is truly such a terrible thing though. I'm sure the same has been justified in the case of cocaine use as well. What can I say. No question mark.
You know, it has really only recently occurred to me that I have finished my journey. I could die happy now. If only God would be so accommodating. I fear that I have quite a bit longer on this planet. I can't imagine what is left for me to do. Yes I can. But either way I recognize that I really can't do a single thing on my own. I am like a little child desperately clinging onto my parents' hands, still to this day, as a man, wondering where I stand in their eyes.
I do not understand why everything is the way it is. It is frustrating beyond measure to feel as though your prayers go unheeded. It's frustrating beyond measure to be close to my passions while they fly apart. It's frustrating beyond measure to dream dreams that cannot be. It's frustrating beyond measure to feel as I do, looking out at all of my friends and all of my family wishing that I could just solve all of their problems. It's enough to make you want to curse God, immediately pleading afterwards for His forgiveness, as I would die before I deny His Majesty.
Alright, alright. I'm calming down. You guys need to calm down too. I can't help it if I have lost any remnants of fear pertaining to death. Yes, I don't particularly desire to drown in a submarine, but that's not the same as fearing death. I have no qualms with meeting my maker really at any time. This does not make me suicidal. It simply makes me talk in a manner uncommon. And I am truly sorry if you are worrying about me now. This might be unavoidable. But from my perspective I feel no different than I hardly ever do, which objectively means that you would all worry about me all the time if only I expressed myself in this manner every single day. But I suppose you could argue about why I choose some days and not others to write this way. That, my friends, I simply cannot say any more than I can tell you how and when exactly the water will crash on the rocks at any given moment. I just write what I may as the ebb and flows of who I am stir my soul. It's what I do.
Oh yes, spoiler alert: Watney makes it.