How natural it has become to live suspended on the water. The rhythm of nature – the swell, the tides, and day and night, the weather fronts. Your body and mind synch with the ocean. Under your feet there is half an inch of plastic, then a few kilometers of water – first warm and welcoming and comforting, with the sun rays penetrating and somehow domesticating it – then comes the dark and the cold and the monsters. What is at the bottom, this universe where our bodies have not been to, but only our imagination has traveled to? Imagine your body floating there? And the night, wow! I miss being alone on the dark water, the sky and the stars. No night sky is like the sky in the South Pacific. Opens up your mind to new dimensions, you go through these Doors of Perception. Disappeared sailors: are they really washed away, or have they decided to move on to the other side? Of course at night your see all the huge sea monsters reaching for you… Was it JP Sartre who said that he was afraid of heights not because he might fall, but because he might not resist the temptation to fly.

Imagine a block of flats. Hundreds, thousands of people suspended in the air, eating, sleeping, making love, making important decisions to rule the world. Distanced and disconnected from the Earth. No good energy can be generated there – I don’t think so. Only frustration and fear.

I am not talking any of that back to nature, Amish, no progress, no technology stuff, Rousseau, the French and other utopians. Not at all, none of that. All I am saying is how unnecessarily complicated we make things sometimes. And how hourly Tweets on Paris Hilton do not really improve my quality of life. Or news on some minor starlet’s suicide attempt, OD-ing on homeopathics… organically grown… please… to avoid side effects… and to support local producers… and reduce her carbon footprint… no kidding… gimme a break…