I live by the seaside now. And I work at in a club on the beach, the work is hard and dirty but when I walk home at five in the morning I get to watch the day creep up on the world when only the dammed, seagulls and bartenders are paying attention.

Brighton can be quite surreal. In my first week here I saw the full moon on a sunny day, bright and defiant as if to say ‘yep, you live by the seaside now kid, a fringe place, a place that exists in reality and as daydream to thousands of the office middle’. And its true, speaking to people living here they will tell you about the rain and shitty weather that always disappears whenever you have someone visit. Reality is nothing more than consensus opinion, and here it feels thin enough that a loud cough could split the veil and let through a faerie parade.

Walking home last week the sea was a vivid blue, that seamlessly flashed white and on the backs of the waves where the gentle rolled and swelled they caught the reflection of the pink red sky. A perfect hologram sea made up from the silver nostalgia memories of a country dreaming of escape.

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