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Boats writing 04.02.19

I was on my boat, riding the savage sea. I have a hate-love relationship with the sea, I love this beautiful mystery but I hate the waves hitting my boat. My feet are wet but that's part of the storm. The waves are now smaller then they were. Three to four feet high. I must leave the storm now or my boat won't survive but it never stopped. Actually there's something good in it , the wind. Not the blasts that could kill you but the loud bursts of wind that helps your pipe to burn again and again until the storms end. You should always a fire near you, and the light from it will always be there. A little bit of light in this cold darkness. I must stay awake and the night is long. But I think it will be clearer soon. The waves are low -two feet- and the wind less violent. And here I am , on my boat. Where should I go? I don't know yet , enjoying myself in this infinite world

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