Sitting here tonight, as Aria strains against her docklines while the wind howls around her, it occurs to me that my voyage is not just through the briny blue, but along the everyday path of living as well. For much of what seems but ordinary to me, and of little consequence, is still part of what charts my course. And the cruising life is not simply balmy beaches, but the reefs and shoals one must find their way through to reach them.
It's not my nature though, to talk about myself. Save through my bumbling attempts at poetry. Or, when talking about not talking about myself. For though I have no lack of self-esteem, I'm not particularly narcissistic. Although, apparently, not above the pompous.
So, we'll see how it goes
John
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