Summer. The beach, the waves, the sunset.
I am sitting on the beach, staring at the sun, and listening to the sound of waves, smashing into the sand. It’s the perfect moment – a moment that no one can steal from me because I memorise every detail: everything I feel, everything I hear, everything I smell, everything I hear. It’s the greatest cocktail for my senses. And I am completely happy – I realise that time has stopped – there’s no past or future, just the present. This very moment. I try to savour it. And this is the only period of the year I will remember clearly, a period when I was at the perfect time in the perfect place, with the perfect people – the best moment of the year…
And because I savour it, I am able to return to this moment whenever I want – no matter time and place. I feel blessed. Knowing that at any given point I can just close my eyes and go to this perfect place is comforting. Actually, I do this quite often. Because this is my passion – the sea, the beach, the breeze, and everything else that comes with it – a complete treat for my senses.
I am also having a drink. I am enjoying a glass of 18 years old Glenlivet that makes the whole experience a little bit better. I also smoke a cigar. Of course, this moment would be a waste if it isn’t shared.
I have my best friend with me and two girls who keep us company. It is a rather enjoyable company. This is the moment when I can completely distance myself from everything, ignore the world with all its goings-on and appreciate a short moment of perfect harmony – both physical and mental.
How little I need to make myself happy! Satisfying my basic needs can bring me ultimate happiness. And I am not ashamed to confess this. There are two reasons for that: first, I am a normal human being and all humans react strongly when their primal needs are satisfied. Second, it’s the ego that commands our decisions, actions and feelings. And my ego is in control – and so I try to keep it happy and satisfied all the time. Unfortunately for me and fortunately for a lot of people I cannot do that constantly. It’s just that my ego is too demanding.
Oh, I forgot to mention that I am enjoying a fruit salad – a combination of fruits and ice cream, to be precise. Moreover, there is music playing from the big speakers behind the beach bar. Chill out music sounds over the coast line – it is loud enough, so that everyone within a few hundred metres of the bar can hear it. And it makes a perfect addition to the scenery. I take a sip from my glass…
I wonder how I would survive autumn and winter if I didn’t have these memories. I don’t have anything against these seasons. In fact I admire nature more at this time than during late spring and summer. But there is something about the greyness and the cold that tires me. I turn into a slow, lazy character that prefers to lie in bed the whole day and avoid meeting other people, unless necessary.
Winter is approaching. I wake up and look through my window – there’s a thick fog outside that makes it impossible to see anything that is more than five metres away from me. Immediately after this I look at my alarm clock. Once more I woke up ten minutes before the alarm was set to ring. I hate this – I’ve always preferred to wake up at least two hours prior to the alarm and try to continue with a dream that was interrupted.
I say to myself that I will have five more minutes of sleep before I actually get out of bed. Oh yes, I also suffer from the “five-minute syndrome”…
I switch off the alarm clock, pull the blanket over my head and turn on my left side. I fall asleep. But only for three minutes. I wake up and look at the clock again – I only have two more minutes. Then I start thinking about my options and try to calculate how much time I really need to take a shower, get dressed and get to work. Of course, my estimation leads to the conclusion that I can have fifteen more minutes of sleep. And I roll on my other side again and close my eyes.
The problem is I am already almost awake and it is hard to fall asleep again. As a result of that I spend the first ten minutes in attempts to fall asleep and when I finally fall asleep, once again I have just five more minutes of sleep – of which I sleep only three and am awake during the last two.
Then I get out of bed and feel like crap, despite the fact that I just had ten more minutes to sleep in total! But that’s the effect of the “five-minute syndrome”…