I dive fearlessly into the cold blue water of the ocean, off the white cliffs of Cyprus. Last time I was here it was in my dreams, a still frame in time, an eternal moment of pure magic, highly charged with sexual energy that transcends to higher ground. I can recall vividly the igniting desire, the explosion of senses, the tranquility of love, the homecoming of oneness. It was such a powerful moment in time that – although made up solely by my imagination – had in its own right become the cornerstone on which I based my understanding and perception of reality.
Two years later, back at the scene of the crime, I let the sun fill me with its warmth as I meditate on the endless blue of the ocean. It is still peaceful here; my little hiding place is well shielded by large white rocks from the intrusive signs of civilization. I wish it would stay like that forever. But nothing does. In a few years, there will be some fancy resort erected, with private access to an artificial beach, right here where I am now basking like a snake in the sun, letting my body adhere to the rock on which it is lying, feeling my hair grow into the algae, my senses filled with the smell of the sea and the sound of the wind against the waves.
This is still a magical place, one worthy of any fateful misconceptions that had been gullibly based. I shall find some solace in that now.