The title of this post never fails to make me laugh. it reminds me of a happier time. When i was truly happy. But i wont talk about that time. Instead i'll tell u about the bottle...
It was a wine bottle. I'd love to fib and say it was a 1978 Chateau Margaux, it was not. I dont even remember the name not to speak of its year. You might wonder why it seems like i'm trying to make you hate the bottle ab initio. i'm not. I just need to make you understand that it was an ordinary bottle.
Anyways my boyfriend and i had gone away for the weekend to this little beach resort..i'd say quaint, but it'd have to be pretty to be quaint (I.M.O). But it was a fantastic place. We even got an upgrade!!!! And the beach was clean. The sand went on for what seemed like miles. Almost sparkly. The ocean; sometimes blue, sometimes gray, sometimes green and sometimes brown. A lonely hammock swaying to the tune of the wind. Almost surely picturesque.
After dinner we walked to the beach front and contemplated the moon (couldnt find a better word). Empty bottle of wine in hand i waded about 2 feet into the water and flung dear nameless bottle of wine into the sea. As Nicholas Sparks might have in 'Message in a Bottle' and prayed that someone might find it. Not like i wrote a letter and anything sha. Imagine if a mammi water found it...ya dig?
Then i toyed with all sorts of ideas. Imagine if the bottle hit a mammi water on the head and she decides to punish me by tampering with my reality and making me think i was like that dude in 'castaway'..or imagine if there was actually a dude like that and the bottle got to him and decides to start worshipping it instead, and the ball decides to haunt me because i took away its devotee...
So i willed the bottle to come back...i knelt at the sea and howled at the moon(ok that was for an entirely different reason).
The next morning i decided to run along the shore, bottle forgotten. I figured i could take the ball down and pacify the mammi water...so i ran, or jogged, or speed walked along the shore, dodging crab holes (ever had a crab crawl into ur knickers?, well neither have i and i wasnt about to find out how it'd feel) staying at least 2 feet away from the water's edge. And ran into the bottle. and stumbled, and fell.
I held up the bottle, triumphiant. like a king would in bringing home spoils from battle. I held the bottle and saw that it had fought a battle with the sea. and it won.
I didnt take the bottle home. I filled it with sand and buried it buy the shore. If you go there, and you stumble across my bottle because it has refused to stay buried, please say hi.
#whispering : i havent flown of my rocker..not yet. i just really liked dear nameless bottle