In my 20s, I was body surfing in Spain and the current dragged me out. I was waving at my friends who thought I was messing about, but I was drowning. I managed to swim in on my back but it scarred me.
Anxiety is love's greatest killer. It makes others feel as you might when a drowning man holds on to you. You want to save him, but you know he will strangle you with his panic.
In a world where families are drowning on beaches to escape war, leaving the church because of sexual abuse, or denied access because of sexual orientation, the utopia that Pope Francis desires may be impossible for the church to attain.
It was as helpful as throwing a drowning man both ends of the rope.
I once wrote a short story called 'The Best Blues Singer in the World,' and it went like this: 'The streets that Balboa walked were his own private ocean, and Balboa was drowning.' End of story. That says it all. Nothing else to say. I've been rewriting that same story over and over again. All my plays are rewriting that same story.
Let me put it this way, if you were drowning, you wouldn't really be in a place to lend a hand as far as being rescued. You'd be at the mercy of the lifeguard. Once pulled out, you may be a little out of it, not sure where you are, but safe nonetheless.
Man, I was drowning in sadness. And Angelina, she lifted me right up out of there.
Most people go to the office and sit at a desk. When firefighters go to the office, we might birth a baby in the morning, save a drowning surfer in the afternoon, and run into a fire at night. What could be more interesting than that?
We're all drowning in data. We all need moments of recovery. For me, that includes not going right to my phone when I wake up in the morning.
I'm a bit of a Luddite, really: I don't use email much, as I started drowning in it. So I said 'screw this' and dumped my laptop, though I've begun to re-engage with it.
