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P.R.

  • Is each lock really opened by only one key? Sometimes I don’t know if these walls are a fortress, or a cage. We’ve all tried to open locks with the wrong keys, we’ve all experienced that frustration with the key that turns out to be only nearly the right one – breaching the tumblers and pins only to stick tight. Danton Remoto described his love walking on a beach. “The salty wind builds a nest in his hair, soft as water.” My fingers have surfed the waves of her hair, again and again, in the fading light. Water is soft when you are immersed in it, water holds your body. But I’ve also fallen into water going 20 miles per hour, and you’d be stunned how hard water can be. Literally, as I found, lying face up to the blue sky and gasping for breath. I get back up for more. Why do I do this to myself? Well, I like to think that I can learn. That all the falls would result in understanding, and strength, and that one day I could balance perfectly on the thin line between water and sky. But a lock, once rusted shut, cannot be opened by any key, even the right one; only forced, smashed, to free what’s inside – or steal what’s inside… destroy what’s inside. I’ve always been in a hurry to grow up. But for her, I wish I were a little younger.
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