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In a city by the sea

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It's 4 am here, It's astonishing how many people are outside by the beach, It's my second time here this year, last time I came here, after being severely bruised from sharp stones and strong sea tides when I went down the beach, I had promised myself, that I'm not coming close to any sea for another 5 years, yet I couldn't stop myself from visiting yet again, this time though, I wont be dipping into the water again :)

I just came here to feel the sorroundings, after being stuck at home for almost a year, even a change of environment can be quite stimulating, it doesn't even need to be a different town, just staying in a different part of my home city is enough to comfort my mind, the comfort of not being familiar with a place.

However, breaking my promise to visit a beach again in such a short time, would need much more than just the promise of comfort. For me being able to hear the gushing of saline water against the sand from the bedroom, with a soft brush of blue light across the sky at 4 am, hearing the distinct yet short lived sound of doors closing in hotel rooms around me, only to be proceeded with silence again for several minutes is something which suffices the justification to break my promise. I'm sure, I'm not the only one, for whom it is suffice, dear reader.

Although, this early morning scenery, is of no match to the lively afternoons, for during then, I can hear constant chatter of people getting in and out of the beach, families going in and getting out, individually these noises sound rather boring, for it is just a conversation. However in bulk, it becomes arguably a sweet constant rythm, I wouldnt be too bold to reject, that It in itself is a song, a song you can hear being sung, in almost any place with a bulk of gathering of ordinary citizens unaware that for a listener sitting just a few metres away, it sounds no less than a soft orchestra, the pattern in the chatter dulling each individual voice to give rise to a cohesive tune, can fill one's heart with pure joy, it is one thing to hear music that is intentionally created by people coordinating their voice chords, and completely another thing to hear a distinctly pointable piece of music naturally being created by a group of people without any coordination.

One of them can be criticized, as their intentional "need" to accquire perfection in music by singing together leaves them open to flaws, and critiques of what "could" have been better.

However, critiquing a piece of music that gets sung without any coordination by its singers or intention to even SING, forces all who want to critique it , to just sit and listen.

Once it's afternoon here, I'll go out and buy some ice-cream from a nearby shop and wait for the night until the shops setup their small shooting ranges at 7pm to let people shoot baloons and win prizes, who knows maybe I'll win something good this time :)

I hope your day goes well too, dear reader , until It's time for afternoon, I'll go have breakfast and read a book.

So long,

Klien

Further Added a few hours later:

I later thought about why its so difficult to critique something that wasnt intentioned to be translated to a specific way. In this case the music that comes out of the chatter from a crowded place, only to think later, that since this interpretation of chatter into a cohesive music was inferred by the mind of the listener, by critiquing it , he/she would be critiquing their own inference instead of the chatter itself, we dont judge the hammer if someone uses a hammer to trim wires, we judge the person who does it, and most people are subconsiously always defensive of themselves, which contributes to the hesitancy to critic their inference.

At Writer's Lane, Nightfall City