Corn rows

Yes Mann... I'm in the islands. Mann! You see, things happen to you when you get here. Well it's an island thing they say.  It is some thing like this -You want to sell all of your shit and start over fresh. Like Mann! Life: It is here and not there; give that shit up, bend over and touch your toes, feel the freedom of not being someone else's prey. It all starts when you step off of the terminal in the harbor into the waiting arms of Freedom: I call it the "black pearl" for it represents freedom won from the revolution. It is set in black beauty - its horn rings out and call for freedom. Will you answer the call and go Island, Mann? You know! Do the island thing for a while, try it on like a suit of clothes and see how it fits, Mann. Will you than sell all of your shit back on the main land; dive in as only you can.  Or will you be held back from spreading your wings because of some perceived sense of loyalty. As for my self, money rules because I have expenses as well as responsibilities. Otherwise I'll take the 70foot sleuth in the harbor tomorrow, thank you. But! This is not about me; it is about you. For example, if you calculated your value in time instead of dollars where do you believe you would get the best return? Finding the inner you: exploring possibilities that you have not yet dreamed about or returning to the waste land of your responsibilities. As for me,  I'm moving on to Tortola for a couple of days in the British Virgin Islands. Than sailing for a week -in and out of the many playful beaches and coves that the winds will share with me, tasting, toying out the secrets of going island, Mann. Side Bar: For me the dream is waking up in the morning with my hair in corn rows and my braids woven with beads. Yes! Mann.