Addendum: An ode to the metaphor and simile of high school english

The sea is snoring again, and that bastard up on high is shining a bloody great torch down on my tent.

The tent itself isn't immune to the idea of trying to keep me awake, it has become a ship at anchor, going nowhere. Peacefully floating upon the ocean of water collecting below.

In truth, the real ocean doesn't bother me much now, I've become used to its constant crashing, and its clever ways. Each wave living out a vision of human life, growth first, gaining in momentum and size roaring forward before crashing to the sand and slowly dying. The body of the ocean acting out the sea of human emotion, perhaps even the greater state of the world around us, in some places calm and at peace, yet in others, stormy, angry, and powerful.

As always when lying awake, my mind running amok, when not trying to distract myself imagining beautiful women in very few clothes, the metaphors write themselves. And after all I'm camping and a little lonely, buck up man, get a grip. This is no time for streams of consciousness dedicated to metaphor, the beautiful mostly naked women are much more enticing.

Come to think of it...so they are.

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