It's two in the morning, and I'm listening to the Pacific Ocean in front of me, and sprinklers in the park behind me. Sitting on lifeguard stand 31. Written by the light of stale yellow street lamps. Street lamps? They shine on the beach.Between two worlds is a special place. During the day it's taken over by people searching for that perfect Hollywood bronze. By people looking to escape the everyday grind. By people who have been taught that beaches are important. And they are, but not in the way we use them. Between is always special. It's where the magic in life is. As a child, the beach is fantastic. Six years old, standing up to something as strong as the ocean, taking the beatings that the incessant waves throw at you, or running and beating them- is that where my childhood sense of invincibility and immortality came from? When I walked out here I was listening to music. But it's been three years since I've ben to the ocean at night, and I'd forgotten you don't need music.

Between technician and performer. Between happiness and despair. Between choices that I have to make with my life. For my life. That sense of youthful invincibility is gone. I've learned that I can fail- I have failed. But in a strange way, after a lot of the shit that's gone on in my mind over the past few years, I feel that I have recaptured my immortality. I'm not going to live forever in the sense that people have been trying to do since they realized the would die. I mean I will forever be in that space between the past and the future.

It's now 2:30am, and I've spent the past several minutes not writing. Eyes misting. Eyes closed. Enjoyiong the moment, and comforted that although this special moment between the past and the future is gone in an instant, there will be an infinite number more. I cannot lament for what is gone, because it leads to what will be. And the Ocean, like the past, will always be there with its promises, it's rhythms, it's whispering if we would only listen to what it has to say.