Left of Center

Meet me in the middle. Somewhere south of center. To the left a little. We're all alright. Doing the same damn thing. Trying hard to stand out in an activity that rewards no one, for nothing. You think you've got it good. You think you're a solid surfer. And then you head south. You surf a spot with consistent waves, where people skip a session, where the wind will keep you outta the water. It opens eyes. Exposes the obvious. Teenage girls hanging ten. Man, you sure suck. Look at those ladies! Reality is so bittersweet. It tastes like a fistful of limes. Sour and yet satisfying. Because at the end of the afternoon you realize none of it really matters. You're Stoked. So who gives a fuck what everyone else can attest to. Maybe you're mediocre. Maybe you're somewhere in the middle. At least you aren't an asshole.

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