White noise

Monterey, sunset. Plovers tuck in the sea. That rare quality of light when everything on this side of the world seems a bit longer, a bit wilier, than usual. The waves sound like the best white noise in the world, either letting all those loose little chirps and whirs in one huge respiration, or exhaling countless unnecessary evils as one, continuous crash against the sand.

Sometimes I worry about things that are important. Sometimes (many times) I worry about things that are important right now. Often I worry about things that are already worth less than the energy spent worrying. And then, there are nights like these, when it's all I can do to think, I'm the luckiest motherfucker in the world.