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she dug her toes under the soft white sand while the waves lapped happily at her feet. every inch of her yearned to lose themselves under the hypnotic lull of the wind breaking on the sea and frothy swirl of the incoming tide, except she couldn't because she didn't bring any change of clothes, nor anything else for that matter, but herself. she could have stripped down to her underwear, of course, and just jump into oblivion and bliss but the exhibitionist in her was too overpowered by practicality. she loathed her sensibility that very moment.

the past week, nay, the past year has been difficult and this was how she thought of coping - dropping everything like a hot potato as soon as the last deadline was met and ran to the beach for a chance of that little bit of sunshine and salty air to comfort her heart.

she started to curse all the circumstances that led her to this very moment, to scream and cry and plead permission to concede defeat. yet, as with every other time, she stopped herself. because in truth, she knows she does not have the right to play the victim in her little drama. she understands that wherever she finds herself, at any point in her life, is a direct result of the choices she made however willingly or coercively that decision was brought upon.

and she knows she is too privileged to complain. she knows her worries wouldn't change the world a bit therefore she concludes they are small and insignificant and to complain is selfish. she knows what she has done wrong and what needs to improve and promptly castigates herself for her blunders.

sometimes she wished she didn't know all those things. sometimes she wished she could think only of herself and take out of the equation the people she owes her achievements to, the people she's more privileged over, or especially the people she might disappoint.

she stopped and corrected herself again. somehow she's consumed by the notion that wishing is for those who has already admitted defeat. better not think about those things, then.

she took a deep breath and noted the lack of saltiness in the breeze and thought, but isn't the atlantic supposed to be saltier than the pacific? anyway..

she took another breath and finally allowed her thoughts to drift into the small, insignificant details that would require no more than a finger snap to solve or make sense and waited for the sunset.

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