MEDITERRANEAN
STORY WRITTEN and CAPTURED by JAN WATZLAWICK
with BELLA OELMANN at CôTE D’ AZUR
MEDITERRANEAN
So they drove on towards hope through rose colored
clouds. “Time is always right” she whispered. “Time is
right.” She was dazzling... It seemed that he was the
only one who knew that her desire for the dark side
fooled their big smiling world once again.
For a moment the last sunshine fell with a romantic affection upon her glowing face and made me remember what love really seemed to be. A moment, everyone thinks about memorizing, but only a few are able to do it regardless of their efforts.
Sitting here with her and holding her in my arms, looking into her beautiful, shiny eyes near the water, near the ocean; listening to the wind and waves smashing against the sand. I liked that. I liked that a lot. So I just got caught up in a seemingly never ending story of happiness. Only because I knew what it felt like in moments of pain.
“What do you like about the ocean?“
“The ocean?” I ask.
“Yea. The ocean. You told me how much you’re in love with it.”
“Hmm..” I took a moment to think about it. “I guess I admire it so much because the ocean is timeless. Imagine you sitting here, two-thousand years ago and doing exactly the same thing that we are doing right now and looking out there, searching for desire. Answers. Maybe the end of the world. You would have seen and felt the same thing as you see and feel today. You would’ve felt as small as you feel today.. It’s a love I cannot explain.”
“No one can explain love, right?! That’s the whole point. I’ve learned it the hard way.. “
“Like we all do.” I throw in.
“Right..and see, that’s another thing. I’ve always desired for people to have this immense amount of care. To want to listen. And talk. About feelings and life. About whatever is happening in each others lives .. and just be consistent there.”
I listened to her soft, feminine voice in full interest.
She continued: “I have a few friends around my age. Majority are a couple of years older. I’m pretty lost out there.”
“I feel you babe. I always felt like I’m an alien.. Alone tumbling through this world and searching for someone who’s speaking my language.”
“You did?”
“I did. I still do, from time to time. It’s kinda exhausting.”
“Will it end?”
“Never. But that’s the good thing though.”
“You think?”
“It is what makes you special.”
She kept the moment quiet for a bit, before she said: “I’m very personable. But so many people I’ve crossed paths with are just so caught up in themselves and I just don’t see much deeper than the surface. And it’s sad.”
“I know what you mean.. But maybe it’s you.”
“Why?” she asked back.
“Well.. I agree love - way too many people are not conscious about things outside of their own little universe. But maybe they don’t just have the desire to explore other things out there. They’re not like you and me. Two little lonely aliens, discovering the solar system, several Planets, hundreds of moons, millions of rocks. Finding home is a process, a journey. Everything good in this world needs time. And even if these people could travel to one of those places, even if they could survive there, and find something they like, it wouldn’t feel like home.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because they would find themselves caught up in an endless ocean of opportunities. Hoping there is something even better around the next corner.”
“So you mean, too many people are too afraid to pursue their happiness but too lazy to settle?”
“Right.”
“Hmm.. I don’t know.”
“You know I always try to see the bigger picture.”
“Yes babe.”
“I’m pretty sure, they’re happy. From time to time, on the surface. But I think that some people aren’t looking in the right place, they’re just looking for something they can survive on, or with and think of it as happiness. Being with a girl who they can fuck and who makes them food and is around. Or a dude who gives them laughs, medium sized 13cm, and a house and maybe a child. So even though we would all describe home differently, we should be passionate enough to find the right one, the right home.. Don’t you think?”
She buried her face in my chest while I fished a couple of her blond hairs from her eyes.
“.. and you can’t find something you have never missed.” I finished my thought.
I was not quite sure if she liked what I said. We were sitting there for a while and watching the sun falling down the pink sky. I saw her scratching something with a stick in the moist sand. The sun fell off her face. It was a moment of absolutely fucking beauty. I could have watched her for hours. Doing this.
“Look at that,” she whispered, and then after a moment: “I'd like to just get one of those pink fluffy clouds and put you in it and push you around.”
I smiled. Water is shattering against the coast. Blue skies and crystal clear water made the mood. And palm trees. Some fucking palm trees throwing shadows all over her soft well formed butt. That is love for me. Memories, made by nature. She took her surfboard. Threw me a smile and went off in the warm wet blue again. For hours. Looking for a moment of truth and freedom. Something timeless.
A ton of feelings were crashing my stomach when I saw her out there. Starving in her passion. Predictable, scary and unbeatable smooth. Those pink clouds were a good idea I thought. I would feel comfortable in it. Safe for a moment. Being without time and pressure. Well that’s not possible. There was never something that could give me the highest high and the lowest low at the same time. Like she does. Never something that love and passion gives me. I’m dying for that shit. I’m like a sailor. Trying to move myself with no wind. No current. No waves. Like death, floating over the peaceful surface, waiting for the next storm, to make my way against the wind.
“I’ll do stupid things for you, regardless of what I think and feel..” I whispered to myself, watching her in the distance. “..doing everything I can to make you happy.”
I pulled my own surfboard out of the sand, put some sunscreen on my white ass and made my way towards the ocean. Towards her.
Chasing those pink clouds.
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