Some folks spend their days chasing coins they’ll never count, and applause that dies out as fast as it’s given. They measure life by paychecks and titles, running in circles like dogs after their own tails. But I’ll tell you plain—give me a boat steady under my feet, a drink cool in my hand, and a sunset burning the horizon—and I’ll feel richer than any banker in his counting house.
There’s a kind of wisdom the water whispers if you sit still long enough to hear it. Out here, the air carries salt and memory, the waves keep time better than any clock, and the horizon stretches wider than the worries of the day. Every problem back on shore shrinks when the sun sets the sky on fire and slips quietly beneath the waterline.
And isn’t it a funny thing? Happiness was never locked away in vaults or found at the end of some endless ladder. No, it’s simpler. It’s right here—the hush between the wind and the waves, the laughter that bubbles up when there’s no one to impress, the freedom of knowing you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.
So let the rest of the world chase its glitter and noise. I’ll take this moment, this peace, this golden silence. Out here, with the water beneath me and the sky aflame, I’ve already caught everything worth catching.
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