It was the most perfect afternoon he had ever seen. Out here on this beach, I mean, no one was better than him. No one.

But of course, he would never tell you that. He wouldn’t really want you to think that either. No, what he would tell you, would want you to believe, is that its all just luck, chance I guess you could say.

So this is the only damper on the afternoon, albeit self inflicted. That he was truly gifted was beside the point; and yet it is all together the point. To deny divinity’s role in such matters is boldly and wholly irresponsible.

Look at his running start, its impeccable. Everything’s in place, the board is set. You could even see him let out a sly grin if you watched close enough. When the wind finally catches the sail, its like magic almost. His eyes close, his face goes into this sort of unconscious state. And then gravity is defied.

While everyone sits there and stares in amazement, I turn around and head home. But home is both safe and boring all together. Its not so much fun to just mope around and do safe things all the time, like play the guitar at some precise level of mediocrity, or watch T.V. and wish you could be like other better people.

Who has it better anyway, the people that pretend to be someone else for a living, or the misled child who thinks it might be worth his while to copy them? I would say, the child does actually. I think acting would be way too addicting.

I bet somewhere in the world, people even forget what they were before and they even come to believe in their new persona. And no, none of this psychological non-sense of multiple personalities, just decisions and consequences.

So Bill really thinks he Bob, and Bob really thinks he’s Bill. Thats hillarious. I would laugh a few times, maybe more. It would be like several very tall buildings right next to each other having a conversation, or two or three.

Out of the tunnel spawns a new kind of devilry. Its coarse and its frigid and it weighs a lot, sort of. These people are really starting to annoy me.

But I suppose we all weigh a lot at some point, because, well, there’s a lot of things that weigh us down. The trick is knowing how to spot the light ones. Or the Heavy ones. It depends on what you really want, sort of. The light ones may be a bit more calm, some would say boring. And you’re heavy ones are dark and interesting, terrifying even. The only problem is, they are all together too much aware of it.

Look out of your window when night falls, and see a little man waving goodbye to you. That’s me. Sorry to frighten you, but don’t be alarmed. This is just a drill.