pasha´s log: day 3

Boy, you take one quick li’l catnap on the beach and it ends up all over the internet. Doesn’t seem right. This morning started real nice with a quick li’l run on the beach and in the ocean even a bit. I think Rommy and Raddy must be tired or something because the run seemed a lot shorter than we usually go for. I did some serious digging on the beach, hunted around for some of those weird looking creatures that I sometimes find in the sand, scurrying along sideways, but no such luck today. We went back our place and relaxed for a bit. I was starting to feel much more comfortable and at home in my new surroundings, that is, until I got into a bit of a fight with the big black dog that lives around here. I’m not exactly sure what happened but she was coming near me on our porch and the next thing I know she’s on top of me trying to separate my head from body. It was no big deal, though. My mouth did feel a bit different after, almost like something was missing. And there was a sweet tasting liquid coming from somewhere, I’m not sure where, that I licked up. Afterwards, Raddy was acting real nervous, more so than usual even. I got to go for a car ride after that and stuck my head out the window when the car was going real fast. Raddy and another man took me inside to see some guy who looked at my chin and mouth for a bit, and then we left. Basically, just relaxed the rest of the day before going to the beach again later. It’s hard to sleep here because there’s so much going on all the time, so I was real sleepy by nighttime. Rommy cooked some real good food and I even got to have some of it, it was real soft and white and chewy and smelled like the ocean, mmm mmm. I’m licking my lips just thinking about it. There are rumors I’ll be having steak tomorrow, licking my lips about that too. A guy could really get used to this eating.

Editor’s Note: A lost tooth and a fair gash under the chin was the damage. He’s a hockey player now, one that is infinitely tougher and braver than his hockey playing companion. I feel much better about the whole incident now, but here’s something I wrote immediately after what had been a pretty rough couple of days for him and us: “As the extreme sadness, already preceded by fits of terror, anger, disgust, and disappointment in my self and the world, washes over a pathetic and useless body and soul, it’s a challenge to feel pleasance, and even harder to feel anything all. The alcohol helps with the latter, certainly, but the search for the former remains as elusive and hopeless as ever. No, more so.”