This vessel had been launched to the digital sea to see what it may catch.

Or perhaps, it had been launched as a mere necessity.  The act of sharing and reaching out being a function of cathartic communication.

And as I’ve set fire to the beached dinghy I feel saddened.  Not at an obviously flawed venture. Nor as a measure of disappointment in what I had discovered on my rocky journey.  But of what I found upon my drifting back to the beach.

What I’ve discovered is that the island is still deserted.

No wild life, no brightly colored bird folk, no crustaceans scrabbling upon the sun-baked sands under my weary feet, no spiders weaving webs in the trees, no irritating insects to complain about, and certainly no god to hear my sighs.

So my assumption is that my scribbling in the sand shall be swiftly consumed by the tides.

I hope, no, I do not hope.  Merely as a function of survival, I wish that I may have need or compulsion for another life raft.  I am willing and capable of crafting such a flotation.

But….

Marooned on my placid and melancholy mid-ocean protrusion, I debate my next venture.  For I know the sea is fickle, unpredictable, and merciless.

I know I will not be planning my travels soon.  This last venture left me with infrequent glimpses of birds at the horizon and fins cutting water at a distance.  Knowing these are unlikely to sustain this weary voyager, I retreat to my desolate beach side reverie.

Humbly, sadly, morosely, and so far away from you, I send this message in a bottle.

J