Nothing could feel better than this wind on my skin. The palm trees are serenading me in wispy waves of sonic sweetness and as my eyelids peel open, I see now the beginnings of this new life. There is no past, at last. Finally I am free. No one here cares or needs to know about it, and quite frankly, nor do I anymore. There is only now moving into more moments of now to receive me.
Good wind is better than even the best sex for me. It takes away all the pain and offers a resting place in its caress that no man’s touch can ever offer. The wind knows every curve of my body, appreciates every hair individually on my head, and leaves me satiated to the core of my being: a feat few men can ever come close to.
I’d take the wind as my lover any day over a man. She responds to me, even now, suddenly picking up and blasting me full force as I acknowledge her power over me. She can carry me to the far reaches of this earth and beyond, drop me at will and leave me breathless with desire fore more of her body licking.
For now, I live on a rock in the middle of the ocean. Loving the wind is a lucky thing because it blows like wild here, sometimes for days non-stop. When she rages, the seas froth and crash against this rock with fury. When she quiets, the gentle lapping of the sea soothes me. I would take her over a man, even in her mysterious comings and goings. She at least delivers pleasure which is more than I can say for most men, who only tease with the promise of goodness then leave you unmet.
The wind never needs coddling or fixing or attention from me to bring its gifts forth. It gives fully with no need for reciprocation or returns. Always changing, yet her essence remains the same forever more, she is the eternal lover.
I’ve been here on this rock for less than a month, but it feels like a year or more already. I saunter down these dusty streets and alleys carefree and content. No one ever looks at me as if I don’t belong, even as clear as it must be that I don’t. I’ve never even had anyone here raise an eyebrow at me, even as I am cutting thru their alleys and backyards, talking to their dogs as if they were my own, in what must sound like garbled Spanish to them. No one seems to notice or care that there’s a middle aged white woman cruising thru their village falling in love with a way of life that they’d love to leave.
Most people here want to go to the US or Spain, or Italy. As usual, the B.S. Propaganda of modern culture has confused their minds to believe that the grass is greener on the other side of their dilemma. They envision life will improve with cell phones and technologies that fry your brain and distract your artistry. They imagine that more money is the way to more happiness, even if it’s at the cost of time spent with your family and friends and isolates you from your community. Somehow, everyone has bought the whole sick story, hook, line and sinker and all the truly good things in life are already being undervalued in comparison to “progress” and the “good life” that they assume Americans have.
The wind brings me home here. I grew up not so far from this rock, so perhaps she knows my name well here. That’s the past too though, and none of that is real anymore. All we ever really have is this moment: now. While it is always fleeting it is always present, it is the still point between the worlds: Past –NOW- future. It’s the only reality there really is, and how we interact with it somehow seems to have a great effect on the stories we leave behind and put forth into tomorrow.
Now tells me everything in saying nothing, and nothing is in everything. The rational mind can’t comprehend any of it but somehow the soul and spirit are fully and always in alignment. Now I am happy to be here, away from all the drama of the past, away from cell phones, computer screens and a maddening pace of life. I am not in any hurry to return. I’m already fantasizing about how I can disappear here and stay on this rock in the middle of the sea making love to the wind every day til I die.
