Except for the black coffee and nibble of dark chocolate, little makes sense at 0314 when I finally surrender and get up for the day. As I gaze out into the distance, that row of green lights far away across StAndrewsBay, for example, is actually, as if actuality were a factor, the reflection of tiny green lights on kitchen appliances and the green light on the hvac thermostat behind me here inside the condo. Half my perception then is imagination, or more. Or fantasy: do old fantasies that are part of my being, comprise part of my reality. Or history. And who cares. 78.8F 81%.
British voted 52 to 48 to leave the, when I was at UMichigan it was a huge speculative possibility called, Common Market. Though their vote affects others, it’s their sense of national identify v. being ruled by foreigners. EU seems like a great idea for them, free trade, free movement, interdependence eliminating war, common language, reassembling the tower of Babel. If asked to give up being American for the good of the world at large, my response is neither ambiguous nor ambivalent. It should be, but it isn’t.
Looking across, over and beyond Shell Island into the Gulf of Mexico: a string of lights that appears to be a large ship anchored offshore. I went out on the porch to look with binoculars, and it’s not the microwave in the background behind me, but so far it’s just lights. Me facing south, ship facing west, as I can see her green starboard running light. Both of us waiting for Friday to dawn.
Pic: leaving port at sunset.