July-Day 18
I can barely pull myself out of bed today, it's cold outside the blankets that have kept me safe since my descent to dreamland where I have been since 6:30 PM. I've slept for 12 hours and I want to keep sleeping. I want to stay in bed where nothing happens to any extremes. I dreamt of lighthouses and the light it casts out over the clear blue gulf sending a signal of safety to those passing by. I wonder about all the things that are like lighthouses to me. I think of the time Alex gave me the towel when I ran to his car in the downpour and that night laying in his backseat playing music through the broken speakers of his car. I shake the thought as I get dressed and head out the door as my keys clink in my hands. When I walk outside …show more content…
It makes me sad because I know that it's red tide. I remember doing a project on it when I was young, my mind flashes to the diagram that had always fascinated me, how the toxins of the tide flow into the fish and paralyzes the nervous system and eliminated the power to breathe. The tide that used to never happen but the world is heating up and we are a ticking time bomb of destruction and this shows in front of me as a kid pokes a fish with a stick. Alex pulls up in his worn car and we stand in silence at all the death around us as kids shriek at the fish and poke at them with whatever they can find. I want to do something but alas we are human and we won't stop until everything is gone, even our wildlife. Today I know what I want to do, I know what I must do. I walk up to a group of teenagers radiating angst and I ask them to help me with something, plus the will be in a short films. They …show more content…
Only the scent remains of the massacre. The fog on the beach softens the horizon and all the palm trees around me. Everything has a greenish tint to it, and I pull my blanket closer around me. Technically it's Alex's, but the blanket seems to have become mine slowly and now it's my home. Even though I don't think fish make sounds, I can hear their cry ringing out. It makes my soul heavy as I walk closer to the shore. I am staring at the horizon with heavy, intense eyes. I don't realize Alex is next to me until I see small tears running down his porcelain face. I don't understand how he remains so pale, we live off of sunshine here and no matter how much sunscreen you wear you simply just end up tanned. Sometimes he will have burnt cheeks or tip of nose, but it just looks like a blush, or a symptom of being very cold. We walk silently on the beach, I stare at my feet to make sure I don't step on anything or anyone. The last thing I want is to be the bearer of death. I steer my way around and feel the broken shells beneath my feet, I remember when I was little and the smashed shells would make my feet ache and turn them red, they still hurt but my feet grow stronger as I grow older. I am not who I used to
I can barely pull myself out of bed today, it's cold outside the blankets that have kept me safe since my descent to dreamland where I have been since 6:30 PM. I've slept for 12 hours and I want to keep sleeping. I want to stay in bed where nothing happens to any extremes. I dreamt of lighthouses and the light it casts out over the clear blue gulf sending a signal of safety to those passing by. I wonder about all the things that are like lighthouses to me. I think of the time Alex gave me the towel when I ran to his car in the downpour and that night laying in his backseat playing music through the broken speakers of his car. I shake the thought as I get dressed and head out the door as my keys clink in my hands. When I walk outside …show more content…
It makes me sad because I know that it's red tide. I remember doing a project on it when I was young, my mind flashes to the diagram that had always fascinated me, how the toxins of the tide flow into the fish and paralyzes the nervous system and eliminated the power to breathe. The tide that used to never happen but the world is heating up and we are a ticking time bomb of destruction and this shows in front of me as a kid pokes a fish with a stick. Alex pulls up in his worn car and we stand in silence at all the death around us as kids shriek at the fish and poke at them with whatever they can find. I want to do something but alas we are human and we won't stop until everything is gone, even our wildlife. Today I know what I want to do, I know what I must do. I walk up to a group of teenagers radiating angst and I ask them to help me with something, plus the will be in a short films. They …show more content…
Only the scent remains of the massacre. The fog on the beach softens the horizon and all the palm trees around me. Everything has a greenish tint to it, and I pull my blanket closer around me. Technically it's Alex's, but the blanket seems to have become mine slowly and now it's my home. Even though I don't think fish make sounds, I can hear their cry ringing out. It makes my soul heavy as I walk closer to the shore. I am staring at the horizon with heavy, intense eyes. I don't realize Alex is next to me until I see small tears running down his porcelain face. I don't understand how he remains so pale, we live off of sunshine here and no matter how much sunscreen you wear you simply just end up tanned. Sometimes he will have burnt cheeks or tip of nose, but it just looks like a blush, or a symptom of being very cold. We walk silently on the beach, I stare at my feet to make sure I don't step on anything or anyone. The last thing I want is to be the bearer of death. I steer my way around and feel the broken shells beneath my feet, I remember when I was little and the smashed shells would make my feet ache and turn them red, they still hurt but my feet grow stronger as I grow older. I am not who I used to