Ponder

Spent the morning by the sea shore somewhere in the north of France. Feeling infinitesimally small under the sky, and held in that, in longing and oblivion, and glimpsing the feeling of being mere horizon, and some wanting of being able to hold that feeling more firmly, more robustly, more reliably.

Some unsatisfaction with how I often hold on to ambition which is not quite the true thing I want or something. Wondering what I will be like, and what I will think of, and feel towards this younger version of me when I am all old, and maybe wise.