She calls me on the wind, gently pushing wavelets against Sookies hull and a new morning arrives. I squint into an unnaturally bright light, sun… I can see the sun and feel it on my shoulders, my skin sucks up pure and natural vitamin D, I need this now more than ever. I open every port on the boat, the vile stench of winter; my prison escapes on the morning wind. This day my fast will end, I need to feed on life and indulge in all she has brought to me. This simple life I have been living is a breeding ground for a sea of discontent with the modern world.
I walk the line of cost verse worth, my movements are, slow, deliberate and intentional. This business of all play and no work has to end at some point or a financial perfect storm will engulf me. An editor contacts me and asks for an original essay, one hour later I have blown her mind, I can hear tears in her voice. Is this true Stormy, she starts to ball over the phone. She wants me, she wants to exploit my private life for fianaicail gain, I feel like a piece of meat on an auction block. I’m not ready to share my story with the world, I guess I just wanted to see if I can still write.
Rummaging through the boat I can’t find anything, I still haven’t finished unpacking, I’m living out of my backpack and just can’t bring myself to completly move abroad. I have a very different book deal and it represents freedom, food, adventure and travel. Unfortunaltly it has nothing to do with sailing. I intentionally don’t set up the voice mail on my phone, I’m in hiding and I don’t want to hear the messages. My email box is full and unread. I’m not ready to read or respond to them. Like a Ostrage I burry my head in the sand. The only thing I want to do is sail and explore. I’m happiest living off of lentils, eggs, potatoes and onions, it doesn’t take much to live this way.if I get greedy my freedom will be shattered.
I’m rifling through my lockers looking for my nav tools. I want to head out next week and not come back. I take my Johnson off the motor mount, now, $2500.00 in the hole on this engine over the last few years, she purrs like a kitten but I’m not in love with her anymore. She won’t ever see the decks of this ship again, I’ve found a new love. I ask myself why it is that learnng to sail is quite possibly the easiest thing on the planet, yet sailing away is the most difficult. My imaginary girlfriend is sitting on the satee across from me, she is ready to go anywhere I have the balls to point my bow sprite, I’m ready as well, there is swashbuckling to do. My list is short…dingy, one chart, food, water, anchor rode, delete blog, imaginary girlfriend?
Reading through my journal I see the word poverty, I cross it out and above it write the word freedom. From the log of Sookie, at the edge of a new journey.