This is not a photograph illustrating the softly hooked talon of the refined fine white shell-crystal sands of my own personal exclusive holiday escape, sweeping luxuriantly and sabre-like into the azure-warm waters of some Carribean shoal or isolated Phillipine Sea. It does not extend organically, softly from the endless sun-kissed golden-white beaches of my own exotic tropical island paradise from where I do not broadcast my transient missives and mixed messages of philosophical wilderness or imagination and dissimulated knowledge to the world. I similarly do not recline in my poolside cane chair, sipping non-existent Mai Tais while not clothed in my imaginary pearl-white silk robe, itself adorned in ebony traditional Chinese dragon symmetries which hang like curtained water over the colourful Quiksilver boardshorts I also do not own. My peculiarly, impossibly beautiful girlfriend does not recline, sleeping, on her side in the sand; having herself just flown in (on my private helicopter, why not ?) after catching the red-eye flight on Emirates from Dubai and her last stunningly successful Art Show and Book-Signing in Paris. I am not sitting here with my leather-bound notebook, penning thoughts for posterity while pondering the sweet fragrant fruits on this reflective ornate (or is antique, Baroque ?) silver platter which does not rest beside me on a small bamboo stool. The lush green leaves of the island forest which do not pulsate with seven colours of labyrinthine equatorial personality behind my faux-colonial villa do not whisper softly in the warm breeze which also does not soothe me in this impossibly picture-perfect summer’s meridian afternoon.
I neither really want or need these things but I sometimes wonder about all those other branching paths through life which might have been. I doubt very much if anyone other than myself will actually read this (and that’s totally cool with me), they will see a picture of a pretty beach and toggle a +1 or scroll away and on into the expanding digital void between us all.
I am actually just sitting here, exhausted after another long day at work, listening to evening sounds of the urban cityscape, tapping away silently on the impermeable surface of my digital device, my sealed portal to that other world. Eyes fluttering closed, head nodding and wondering about some other life that I have never lived, that I might possibly have lived, that I never will live.