letters from publius.

essays on soul, spirit, and time.

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Tag: short-fiction

  • James

    James

    THE LIE

    “My home surf-break identifies as better than J bay”

    My friend James from NJ said this… 

    …NJ waves suck. J-bay waves are awesome. It’s the conclusion of the famous movie “Endless Summer”… a quest for the most perfect wave in the world.

    This quote is basically saying your local sledding hill is equivalent to skiing Utah.

    __

    James is 37 now.

    We went to college together.

    He lives in a super rich manhattan commuter town very far away from good surf. 

    Like if you’re a surfer you wouldn’t live there.

    __

    James married an awesome girl, she’s pretty.

    She’s a GP at a really famous consulting firm.

    “Yeah our plan is to retire early and travel the world.”

    -James in 2025

    __

    “My home break identifies as better than J bay”

    He was responding to my note on our group thread that said “Malibu first point is a more fun wave to ride than Cloudbreak.”

    Why would James respond that way lol?

    Deflection right? Sarcastic deflection… 

    I live in SoCal near some of the best waves in the world.

    And James loves to surf.


    But he chose to live in NJ next to some of the shittiest waves in the world because his wife is “GP at a really famous consulting firm”… 

    Oh and the only time the waves aren’t shitty is in the depth of winter (below freezing air temps, ice cold water)…

    __

    I’ve been watching the office again recently. 

    It’s bleak to me  

    Super dark.

    Work a meaningless job, settle for comfort, and find one person to make it bearable. 

    Basically the middle class that the masses settle for.

    I debate whether or not I should keep watching it.

    Because it’s so clearly a transition from the unrealisim of the post rom-com era of the 90s.

    So clearly a harbinger for the disconnected app-based marriage-and-kids-as-virtue-signaling world that we’re wrapped up in nowadays. 

    __

    James and his wife got pregnant recently.

    “Yeah, now we think we need to grind it out another 10-20 years.”

    Another 20 years… fuck, man!!

    __

    THE TRUTH

    “Obviously they’re getting all the waves! They’re surfing a perfect pointbreak on massive ass fucking boards!”

    -frustrated no-name visitor at first point who brought a board that was too small and got absolutely 0 fucking waves during a perfect summer swell at Malibu

    __

    The faces at first point are perfect. 

    It’s like if you could take the culture of California and turn it into a wave.

    Dreamy, long, cruisy, tapering…

    Just a perfect shape.

    It peels forever on a good day… off into the sunset… and the sun is always shining…

    The ride time is so long… 

    You can style it so beautifully… nose ride it, walk the board, connect sections, do these biggg lay back knee drop turns… or just pump a little, trim, and enjoy yourself… 

    It feels like you’ve got more than enough time to do whatever you want… and then it’s suddenly over…

    Those rides are so dreamy…

    __

    Our brains are hardwired for scarcity.

    But our world is abundant… too abundant…

    What… 9 billion people? 

    Probably 100 million suitable mates?

    __

    “My home break identifies as better than J-bay”

    Lol dude fuck off…

    You just signed up for New Jersey for 30 years… that’s not my problem.

    No take-backs with a wife or kids either.

    Makes me wonder how many guys would “return” it if it were that easy. 

    Probably a lot… 50% divorce rate with all that pain in the system… 

    Seriously… if it were frictionless… how high would that number get?

    __

    Jim and Pam… a sweet lullaby… the death knoll for adventurers everywhere.

    __

    THE QUESTION

    After I jotted this down I read a chapter on Romance from Jordan Peterson’s second book.

    The TLDR is, if you’re not in a marriage between 21-35 then your life will be suboptimal.

    Basically, you’ll regret it.

    He drills this in over and over.

    The odd thing is it makes marriage seem like a battlefield. 

    A war that must be had in order to live in peace.

    But I grew up in pure heaven. My parents never fought. Are still super attracted to each other. They’re quite happy. 

    Our house was never a battleground. It was a sanctuary. 

    Some place you walked into and felt a huge sigh of relief…

    Not the fucking opposite.

    __

    Peterson is a troubled soul. 

    Why not solve for peace first and avoid war altogether?

    __

    I’m also reading Derek Sivers book “Useful Not True”

    The TLDR is, facts are simple and not emotional. 

    Most of the time you’re hearing opinions and perspectives.

    We’re social animals, we really want people to reinforce our opinions and perspectives and social scenarios as facts. 

    Derek sivers is quite happy. He recently told me he despises domesticity, as do a lot of his good friends [lol do a little research on who his friends are].

    __

    I believe god / the universe / whatever is good.

    What does good mean? 

    Well I think one thing it means is multiple solutions work. 

    So if you’re making statements, axioms, etc… chances are other views / perspectives can also lead to a pretty good outcome.

    __

    I’m single. 

    From my POV I dodged a couple of bullets.

    It makes me so happy every time I think about the day-to-day that those metaphorical “bullets” would have led to.

    But from Peterson’s POV, I shouldn’t be happy. My happiness is irresponsible. A denial. A refusal to sacrifice the present for a “better” tomorrow. 

    I should have to go to war with a domestic partner to be happy. And to enjoy forced romance with the same person I’m going to sleep with for the rest of my life. 

    The funny thing is I was stuck in that with the same partner for 5 years. It was just awful. Terrible. And I don’t use those words lightly. 

    Could I have made it work? Yeah. But it would have absolutely sucked.

    And now I’m not in it. And I quite literally believe my life is heaven.

    “Useful not true…”

    Peterson’s narrative is quite useful for his situation. Take a look at his wife… just google it.

    Anyways, Peterson’s conviction made me unhappy about my scenario which I was previously happy about.

    “Useful not true…”

    __

    Ahh self-doubt…

    Here’s the thing.

    I don’t really know if I’m right. 

    Maybe Peterson’s right. 

    Maybe I’m avoiding. Maybe I’ll be too late. Maybe the social milieu is the way it is for one or another reason… And following my counter-culture ways will end me in a pit of despair.

    But I do know I’m happy most of the time… I can tell you that. Confidently.

    And if I’m not happy it’s not because of my set-up. It’s usually because I’m caring about some other person’s judgment, or afraid of some perceived threat (that’s not really a threat) that my anxious brain is telling me to be wary of. 

    And I do know that I’m particularly happy when I’m doing things that I love, and have honed / sharpened / grown over the years (surfing, running, hiking, triathlon, volleyball, writing etc. etc. etc.)

    And I do know that finding things that you objectively love. Things that don’t depend on another person. Is a bullet proof way to enjoy life. And the more you practice them, the closer you approach mastery… and mastery… wooh… makes me tear up and get the goosebumps just thinking about it…

    __

    And this marriage stuff…

    “Useful not true”… there are multiple solutions to happiness…

    • Sivers divorced and is quite happy
    • Ferris never married
    • Bezos divorced
    • Gates divorced
    • Vaynerchuk divorced 
    • Ravikant got married at 39

    Marriage… Is it dogma? is it virtue?

    Is marrying early good for those who are grasping? Who don’t have a purpose? 

    Is marrying early bad who are at peace, and do have purpose? 

    __

    When I was 19 in college I was having a pretty rough time. I was reading philosophy from a lot of folks who were also having a pretty rough time… And despite their philosophy, continued to have a rough time.

    I had this insight that I’ve followed since then… Try and read and follow the philosophies of happy people. Be wary of following philosophies of sad people–particularly if their philosophies don’t make them less sad.

    What the fuck is the point of a philosophy if it doesn’t make you happy?

    “Useful not true…”

    __

    I was out surfing in Malibu about a week after I wrote this.

    I watched this cutie hang 10 on like 3 or 4 waves in a row.

    It does an injustice to call it graceful.

    It was perfect. The water clear… only a couple people out. 

    She was just beautiful.

    Huge smile the whole time.

    Levitating, both toes off a 10 foot board. 

    Angelic. 

    __

    Jordan peterson hasn’t gotten tubed

    Jordan peterson hasn’t hung 10

    Jordan peterson hasn’t run an ironman

    Jordan peterson hasn’t run an ultra

    Jordan peterson hasn’t made love to a 10 / 10… (check out his wife)

    Jordan peterson wasn’t an investment banker at age 19

    Jordan peterson is a pretty normal guy. An average white dude. Who grew up in rural Canada and is extremely smart.

    And despite his fame and success, has a good amount of psych problems. 

    That’s not to say pieces of his advice… or even all of his advice… is not a “good” thing.

    I still recite the majority of his rules a couple times a week if not every morning… They’re pretty damn good guideposts.

    But again, useful not true… which ones work for you? And at which point in your life do they work for you? And in which scenarios do they work for you? 

    __

    “My yoke is easy. My burden is light”

    “Seek wisdom, but not to the point you don’t enjoy life”

    Life isn’t meant to be war.

    Quite the opposite

    __

    I watched that babe… just so beautiful. Such a big smile. 

    I caught her eye as she paddled back out… totally aware she was snaking me and gonna catch the best wave in the next set.

    “Hi” she said with a coy little smile. 

    😉

    Publius

    EPILOGUE

    In 2026 James, 2 more guys, and myself had another trip planned to Fiji. 

    James bailed last minute. Lost like 6k. It was because of childcare. 

    His wife had a business trip. 

    He said to us the year before “a condition of our marriage is I get one uninterrupted surf trip per year.”

    That’s when I opened up this blog post again and read it through. It had been a year since I wrote it. 

    I decided to publish it after I reread it. 

    A reminder to be very mindful of lifelong decisions I lock myself into. And the fear, anxiety, social comparisons, conventions, etc. that could lead to locking us into those decisions. 

    “Hell yeah or no”… another quip that both naval and sivers cite when making these sorts of decisions. 

    Which is a particularly useful axiom for my way of life.

  • issy

    issy

    “Well I guess I’ll just continue with my travels” she said. 

    __

    She and I met in a hostel on Kuta Lombok in 2015 when there were 2 paved roads and not much else. 

    I was a dirtbag surfer. Traveling out of an old backpack… weathered, gritty, with dirt and shit all over it. 

    She was a British girl… had been traveling for 6 or 7 months. Petite. Short blonde hair that worked for her. Not the bad short… like all these washed up american 30 somethings in 2025… trimming to try and imitate celebrities. 

    Beautiful short. Sun-bleached. Raw. Natural. 

    She had these old birkenstocks I’ll never forget. Old and weathered. Had been out in the rain a bunch.

    I thought they were goofy.

    She assured me they weren’t.

    She wore around this black little thong 2 piece… definitely not goofy… definitely, definitely not goofy.

    __

    “Well I guess I’ll just continue with my travels…” 

    We paused for a second. Didn’t make eye contact. 

    It was one of those private moments you share in deep love… 

    but a deep love that’s temporary and you both know it and the person who asked the question knows it too… 

    but you’re just so wrapped up in that love that you can’t really fathom the impermanence of it.

    She inhaled her cigarette, exhaled… then looked out at the ocean.

    __

    I got barrelled earlier that day. 

    A gift from God. 

    Being in the barrel of a wave is one of the more transcendent life experiences. 

    The faith of pulling in. The shallow and sharp reef beneath. Understanding the consequences (and high likelihood) of a fall – deep cuts and gashes on a rural island. 

    And the sound… The sound in the tube is the most surreal part for me… suddenly the outside world disappearing… a weird sort of vacuum mechanical white noise as the wave envelops you. 

    The light blue curtain separates you from the outside world… The sun shining through on your path into a new dimension.

    Then you either fall… skipping down the face of the wave, sucked over the top, covering your face and praying to god the consequences aren’t that bad.

    Or you make it out… miraculously… 

    That moment though… deep in the tube… it’s never long enough… you just wish it could last forever.. It’s never long enough… 

    Every one is different… the same… but different… 

    A portal to another dimension 

    __

    On our way back from lunch that day some Indo yelled out “bro bro!” on the side of the rural road. He snagged a shot of that barrel I got… 

    “Goofy rasta” was the title of the photo. I’m goofy footed and had my dreads long… it’s wild how much youths of developing countries idolize dark skinned dudes with dreads… 

    She got a good laugh outta that one,… “Goofy rasta hehe”

    __

    That night she and I found some gorgeous inlet. The swell was down. It was just calm glassy little waves. Mountains in the background. Untouched sand. Nobody there. Nobody was in west sumbawa. 

    I’m sure there will be some day… The same way Bali got developed. The same way Lombok is getting developed.

    The pattern is simple…Surfer dudes bring their lover girls to some remote and beautiful and consequential break. Just looking for empty tubes…

    Get surfed out… come back to a little shack by the sea to deep connection. Raw sex. Lust or love and connection with everything that is. 

    __

    Then that spot gains a little momentum… 

    The surfer girlies open a little yoga studio and a little cafe… 

    The wrong dudes find out… who bring the wrong girls… who tik tok or insta or snapchat or whatever the fuck they’re all doing nowadays that’s putting all the gems on the map

    More of the wrong girls come.

    More of the wrong dudes come to try and get more of the wrong girls…

    Posers… literal posers… 

    Then it’s ruined…

    And then 2 years later my friends from college start talking about some cool new spot that they wonder if “like have you ever been there, nick?”

    __

    “Well I guess I’ll just continue with my travels…”

    This quote was Issy’s response to an intrusive couple that had asked about our story and what we were gonna do when I left indonesia for the U.S. peace corps in Mozambuqie…  

    Such a sad reminder of the finite when we were just chilling in timelessness at this indo-australian couple’s bungalow… that couple had been chilling in timelessness for a while… they had a little garden to the left and would serve up these huge curry bowls to all the surfers every afternoon

    We were so obviously deep in love… so obviously deep in the moment… the nerve of that other couple to take us out…  

    But I’ll never forget that moment. We were both so surprised I think by the question. Like, how could we even concern ourselves with “what’s after?” when the moment was so good. 

    We were just so caught up in it. We hadn’t even thought about it ending. What would happen when it ended? Why would it end? How could something that visceral even end?

    And could something that felt so powerful and real… dreamy… but real… really die for quotidian / finite-structural circumstances?

    …….

    Yes. The answer is yes. Most things like that do.

    The deeper I get into life. The more this is evident to me.

    The dream of life dies with the quotidian… with reality.

    The quotidian is insidious.

    Reality is limiting. 

    We have to guard against the creep of the quotidian.

    Guard against the seemingly inexorable “reality.”

    Or we’ll be left on our death bed with deep, deep regret… Regrets of all the bullshit limitations we hoisted upon ourselves and unrelentingly held onto for no fucking reason at all. 

    __

    Is it even possible to avoid the quotidian without letting go? 

    To live in a dreamy world while grasping for our perceived reality? 

    Because once something is fully integrated and accepted doesn’t it become quotidian?

    Once something becomes finite / structural / measurable… doesn’t that make it real?  

    So then… logically… isn’t the whole art to a soulful and dreamy life just as much about letting go as it is about falling in love in the first place? 

    __

    Life’s big questions… 

    What I do know is moments like these…the one here that issy and i shared as we motorcycled around the Indonesian archipelago…are the point of life. 

    It’s why I could die tomorrow with tears of joy… because of how beautiful and full it’s all been.

    __

    EPILOGUE

    Issy and I still talk from time to time. She has a kid with some guy. 

    I’m doing my thing.

    It probably pisses her off a little… the fact that i ping her outta the blue with some visceral and emotionally triggering memory. 

    She also probably loves it a little… 

    I think I know that too… I think it’s sorta funny… 

    Still fucking around with her over things that are borderline not OK to fuck around with her about…

    I know she thinks it’s sorta funny deep down too.

    That’s part of why we fell so deeply in love.

    __

    The humor behind it is why we know we need to be careful.

    She knows she can’t get reeled in too far.

    And I know I can’t reel her in too far.

    The infinite dance between the masculine and feminine 

    We both know we need to be careful. 

    -Publius

  • Emily

    Emily

    Golden hair. 5’9. Curves flowing like the waves in the ocean. 

    “I’m the luckiest girl in the world”

    7 years older than I was at the time. 25 to 32. 

    I was staying at a hostel in Wellington. I’ll never forget when she first walked out. 

    Put together. Black turtle neck up to her chin. Slim. Gorgeous. 

    Grace in every step. A slightly amused closed lip smile. 

    __

    “I’m from Germany. But my family, they’re vikings. From Iceland. I’m a strong viking hehe look at my muscles”

    She was just to die for…

    “Oh my god you lived in New York… I just love New York… But it’s just so busy. And something is missing there. But I just love it. Oh you worked on wall street? Where? Wow… Oh you went to Penn? My ex went to yale”

    “But get away now! This is wine time! It’s for old ladies! You’re too young hehe!”

    Just to die for…

    __

    How did she even end up at a little hostel full of dirtbag travelers in Wellington?

    “I’m a lawyer… I went to Cardozo in NYC. I got so bored with Corporate law. My Dad’s a famous judge in Germany. I came here for the summer to do xyz law work for fun. I was going to stay in this hostel for a little bit then get a sublet. But it’s just so fun! Like who would think that a proper 32 year old German lawyer would live in such a place. But it’s just so fun!”

    My heart was melting.

    __

    One night everyone in the hostel was going out. She and I were chatting. A couple drinks. Flirting. We went to some little divy dance bar in Wellington. Something that felt like baby’s alright in Brooklyn in the 2010s.

    We ended up dancing together. She taught me. Our bodies got close. I can’t remember if I kissed her there or back at the hostel. Either way we ended up leaving together.

    __

    We found somewhere private… A little nook and cranny…

    Emily was famous for knitting. Peter (our friend) said it’s cuz she’s sexually frustrated.

    He walked in on us…

    “WOAH! Guess you won’t need to knit anymore!”

    We laughed…

    __

    It’s adventures like this in our youth that makes life worth living. Play. Fun. Different people. Different cultures. Foreign places. Adventure. True adventure.

    Emily and I are still friends. After I left Wellington to go surfing for a year in Indonesia I thought she’d come with me. 

    She didn’t. Her ex BF in NYC was her real BF. He’s ugly, but stable. I don’t know if she really loves him or not. Her love is different I imagine. Colder, like scandinavian winters. Maybe cozier.

    Mine is full of passion. Aficion like the matador in Hemingway’s Sun Also Rises. 

    It’s risky, it’s bright and strong like the sub saharan african sun. And cool as a deserts night when the sun goes down.

    __

    In 2020 she called me. After a couple glasses of wine. 

    “I just want you to know you were…um… it was the best. When we made love it was the best for me. I was talking to my friends and I just… I just wanted you to know that… Something about the passion. The way you kissed me and touched me. And put your arms around me. I just… I just wanted you to know that…”

    We spoke about traveling together around the world. Opening a little vineyard in some nook and cranny somewhere.

    We laughed…

    __

    In 2022 we met up for a drink when I was living in Brooklyn for a couple months. She hadn’t aged a day. 

    Sparks everywhere. A warm burning passion in my heart and stomach. 

    We couldn’t keep our hands off each other. We spoke about sex, deep passion, kept grabbing each others hands in the middle of the table.

    One of us had to go or something. She walked me to the subway. 

    __

    “No I can’t meet up like that. I’m a grown lady! I have a boyfriend we live together. You can’t just come over I can’t do that.”

    The way she matter of fact and lightly can talk about something so deep is true art.

    __

    In her photos I don’t see her smile much. I wonder if the adventure is stil in her soul. Whether she longs for it. What could become of us and our story. Has it ended? 

    She has a kid and lives in a high rise in new york. I don’t see her leave much.

    __

    These sorts of relationships leave me with a deep yearning to keep living. Something about their essences helps me answer… What is this life? What’s the point of giving passion in the first place? Aficion? 

    And once you feel it why the fuck do some people give it up… especially when they’re so deeply in touch with it?! 

    __

    The answer, I surmise, is it’s just not intentional. It just goes unnurtured and then it dies. Slowly, insidiously, it dies.

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