I'm wet. I'm cold. My bruises hurt. My scrapes burn. As I get closer to the beach, I feel the waves building up. The swell hits the seabed, the waves get higher. They break. Not good! The waves begin to lift me and, shortly, I begin to break. I approach the beach with dizzying speed. It's a steep beach, it must be low tide. They try to slow me down and the wave makes a hissing sound like it's laughing at me. In fact, I feel like I'd take off and fly if it were a little faster. And I think I feel what surfers experience by running through the waves at incredible speed. I think I won't survive the impact. But right now I had no options. The impact is brutal. When I hit the beach I stop suddenly. That hurts. They pull me trying to get me out of the waves. But the next wave fills me with at least a quarter of a ton of water and they leave me there. I'm no longer useful. I am left defeated, lonely, abandoned.