oh well.

I planned on doing this four days ago, but I couldn't do it poetically. Just didn't come to me. So I'm saying this upfront.

I went scuba diving four days ago. It was.

I had to wake up at six thirty in the morning (or six fucking thirty, as a particular friend of mine might put it) and drive about twenty kilometers to the jetty. The weather was pleasant, perfect for diving, about thirty degrees centigrade. The dive site was an hours journey from the jetty, and by the time we got there it was about eight.

This was the second time diving for me, and, let me be honest, i was pretty darned nervous.

Splash. Straight into the water. Twenty feet in. We did the drill, did the skill exercises, and all the other formal bullshit that needed to be done.

Then the fun starts. I could tell you about the millions of fish and jellyfish and strange things that didn't have a name. I could tell you that we dived on an eighteenth century shipwreck. I could tell you that I got stung by a fish with a minor poison. But why?

I can tell you this, though. If you haven't ever dived before,

Go fucking do it.