I remember a torment that some may understand, and some may not, of a tortured teenage mind. To flee that hades in protest and become a poor young man in his 20\'s with the torture left behind. That being said, being free, and being a poor young man, it really was a romantic life just as Borges once suggested.
I remember the lure of the Anna Maria ocean and fishing by the light of the moon on the legendary pointe. I remember sleeping on the beach, being awoken at midnight by a friend and fellow fisherman when he hooked a tarpon. Startled, looking at the sleek silver fish longer than my friend was tall, jumping out of the sea and shining by the light of the moon against a black black sky - an image seared into my memory for the rest of my life.
I remember a boat full of young long-hairs, pulling up to that shore. Fellow adventurers and protesters, for that is what all young men have to be on the shores of an island at sea. I see them now in my memory unloading wood from who knows where and invoking a bonfire to rival any scene you can imagine from our human history. Sparks lifting against a black black sky. The conversations and stories of sharks, giant hammerheads and all of the mystical creatures that have been caught at that very pointe. The beers with a mischievous girl named Mary and all of the wonders of a youthful night. The romantic life of a poor young man and the tenets of a time so long ago.
If you find yourself young and on the pointe of a legendary island, live! - if only to write to those who come after, when writing is what is left, and stories have to be told. Never forsake your youthful adventures for they are a hidden treasure when you become old.☠️