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Purgatory - Sunday, Feb. 10, 2019
2002-08-14 @ 11:37 a.m.
We went out to Steveston last night. He had wanted to go see a movie, but the night was too amazing to sit in a theatre. I begged him to take me for a walk along the beach and he agreed.
Steveston is a little holiday-like town on the edge of Richmond. That�s what it feels like to me � similar to Seaside, Oregon. Or Coos Bay. Or a shabby Carmel. These places have kite shops, take-away cafes, and boardwalks.
We wandered around, the low sun casting orange light against the pier and boats. The wind blew strongly and warmly. We tucked in to fish �n chips; conversation flowed.
Out on the docks, salty men offered us fresh wild salmon. Sloops cruised in, ghostly and smoothly, to rest for the night. The water rippled navy blue � like a fractal image - mesmerising me, enticing me into the cool depths.
After the sun vanished behind the Island, we drove up along the Fraser. The stars came out and the lights of Annacis Island twinkled sulphur orange.
The theme of the night�s conversation was about the purpose of life. I never consciously considered why I am here. He urged me to adopt, or at least accept, his psychology: �What have I done today to make this world a better place?�
What have I done in 21 YEARS to make this world a better place? I have contributed nothing.