those ghost orbs have funny ways of predicting

I’m looking at a collection of pictures done during this glorious summer. A night spent at the point of the gigantic rock on the beach. We found ourselves safely enclosed in an estuary where we could look hidden from the cops and drink our beer and smoke our dope. We sat, and looked beyond to the town lights creating this haze over the sky. They brought bongos and a ukulele so we could try and make something out of our thoughts into sound. Then we decided to cross over this sandy bluff down nearer to the water. All of them piled onto a lifeguard tower, but for some reason I wasn’t able to grasp onto it, even though they offered help. I decided to go to the water and disappear from them for a while. There was a lot going on in my mind during that time, so much confusion about what I meant to you. I ran out near the water because I wanted you to come get me, to come and lay by me to look up at the sky and try to have some kind of philosophical conversation. But you didn’t come, you were too busy having fun with our new strangers and I don’t blame you. So I ran back and forth on the shore, getting my legs wet up to my knees, my jeans conforming to the skin. There was pain in my heart, but I got this great sense of liberation running alone and looking at the vastness of the Pacific Ocean. It was black with the sky and the sound of it making waves calmed me. I realized there, that we are all alone in this. No matter how much I wanted something, in the end, loneliness will prevail. I really understood the meaning of all you have is yourself. So I got worn out from running on the water and just laid there on the sand and tried to pull myself together. I was sad about everything and I could predict the outcome of this night, and it wasn’t going to go in my favor. They sent our friend to come and ‘rescue me,’ he was quite drunk and happy so I went to join up again with the rest of you. I still felt separate from everything the rest of that evening spent on the beach. I just wanted to sleep, yet the promise seemed possible. We played our music and the camera was there to document this moment of complete freedom. Youth slightly out of our minds, carefree in the night sky screaming and singing. Those ghost orbs fell hard. And we walked back holding hands, bittersweet conversation where the promise broke. I was tattered with sea salt and miscalculating. We drove, you sat behind me and brought your drunken hand to my neck, caressing my face and then we just held hands tightly for awhile until I let go.