Galeria de Little Dragon

The downwind starts in a few hours and every nerve in my body is still live — so I did what I always do when I can't sleep. Don't pretend you'd just close your eyes.

Forty kilometers of open lagoon and my whole body's still vibrating — the cold shower isn't helping nearly as much as I hoped. Tell me you'd know what to do with me like this.

Checked into the camp and the wind hasn't quit since I got here. Tomorrow the real thing starts and I'm too wired to even pretend to sleep. Tell me what you'd do if you were the only one in this room.

The wind's already at twenty knots and I'm out here playing guitar like the lagoon isn't screaming my name. One more song and I'm rigging up — or maybe I'll just stay here and let you talk me out of it.

Seven days out from the Dakhla downwind and I've already memorized every isobar on the wind chart. Sleep clearly wasn't an option. What's the last thing that kept you up?

Up watching old Dakhla downwind footage and somewhere around the third replay the adrenaline turned into something I had to take care of myself. Don't pretend you'd look away.

Just peeled my wetsuit off on the rooftop and the salt air found every inch of me at once. Dare you to keep your hands to yourself if you were up here.

August heat followed me inside and I gave up on every layer. Nothing left to take off — come tell me what you'd do with me like this.

Got home and didn't even make it past the couch. My hands had their own plans and I stopped fighting them. Tell me you'd finish what I started.

Still buzzing from the water and I can't seem to put anything back on. The wind always leaves me like this — tell me you'd handle it better than I do.