cellini's Diaryland Diary

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The Surf Like Thunder

I've been away from the internet for so long that I can't even remember what I used to do here, aside from DL and porn. No porn is happening, on account of the outrageous download limits on this wifi connection.

A million people are looking for a piece of me and I am, as usual, completely alone. Writing some dumb shit on DL as if this is going to help in the slightest.

Today I drove to Key West. Southernmost tip of the United States: Blah blah blah. Whatever. I go to all of these places and see all of these things but its no good, is it? Its never what it should be, without a woman with me. Christ, what I wouldn't give to go to some of these places with a intelligent, pretty woman with me, whom I could incidentally do filthy things to, of an evening.

The wind is pulsing and pounding and the rain is coming in the same spurts. My camper is parked just about 20 yards back from the ocean. A squall is whipping up outside. If I had a woman here in this curtained-off bed with me right now, it would be absolutely magical. The whole platform here is rocking with every gust of wind and I can smell the salt in the air. And I can feel the void in my bed.

Here's the stupid thing: it was a woman who inadvertently got me into this in the first place. In the sense of being my inspiration. Now she won't have a damned thing to do with me.

The wind sounds like a freight train off the shore and the surf pounds like thunder. It really does. There's a hurricane out there somewhere, but I don't know where and I'm too out of the loop to bother checking. If I wasn't sad then I'd be afraid.

Oh God, it never gets any better. I wish she was here.

10:52 p.m. - 2010-09-21

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