Sometimes a ship comes aboard.
The shock of a confrontation after a long time of silence makes me drunk, the excitement of talking and listening to a human voice. Long ago I decided not being interested in mass of people, but one single voice sounds like music in my ears.

I pace up and down on the beach until dark en write in my logbook: I have make a fool of myself, I had almost sold my soul for a soothing voice. Back on my own I quote the phrase of Holderlin's Hyperion:"Oh, once I searched burning of desire for fraternization with people."

Also here on the pacific my daily routine is ordered like a repeated pattern ending in coffee on the beach and reading at night. Even though time doesn't matter anymore I count care fully days months and years forced by the need keeping in touch with the outside world.

It is a beautiful morning and nothing warns me about an insecure future which will caught me in a few hours.
The wind suddenly reaches gale force and cuts my throat. I gasp for air. When I give way to this force of nature it will be the end of my fascinating tour. I try to shout but even though I feel the muscles in my throat in motion I cannot produce any sound. The next moment I realize physical effort isn't important for the situation I am in now. I close my ears for the interfering noises around me. This is a moment of solitude.
robert