just me and the sea watching the seagulls glide in the afternoon sun. just me watching passing people passing picking at seashells with their toes and fingers. just me sitting on the sand with nowhere to go. just the sea crawling on the shore stealing seashells and then spewing them all back onto the sand. i wonder if the sea ever gets tired of its monotony. i wonder if the sun ever gets tired of shining all day long. i get tired — of smiling when i should be crying, of talking when i want to be silent, of living when i’d rather not be . . . .