Not certain at this point whether I am ill due to overzealous chewing of my own red polished fingers during period of intense random thinking OR copious consumption of Fiji beverages of the alcoholic and non alcoholic/non purified variety.
Regardless, I am physically ill which is a kick in the tonsils after declaring myself no longer mentally ill.
I wanted to rant about Fiji a little more. Her soggy fakeness. All synthetic grass and postcard plantings. That’s Fiji. They’ve planted coconut palms on the golf course. In case you can’t find your ball you can always whack a coconut, right? They’ve built resorts over mangrove swamps and they import crabs for buffets that are sure to please the US contingent.
But when I went wandering through her stirring ocean.. then I became transfixed. A thousand blue starfish humming together beneath me. A thousand (at least) grazing on the tired tufts of coral that poked up from the sunken earth. Sublime.
I also did like the fire.. there was a lot of fire in Fiji. It was in the torches and in the deep vibrations of the voices we heard. But you had to really look for it and really listen for it. In much the way you have to look and listen for the intentions in a postcard, years after it was sent.