It's like being underwater for just a little too long, seeing the surface from below and realizing you're already out of breath as you float up, just a little too slow. Your chest becomes concave & panic sets in. There's the panic inside and there's the stillness outside. The stillness & weight of the whole ocean holding you, an apathetic witness to your pain. You're somehow aware of this stillness and the futility of your fear, even in the midst of the thousand fire alarms going off in your head. The place where the water divides from the air becomes a fantasy, a day dream, as you draw closer in slow motion. As you surface, your body draws in the most primal breath you've ever experienced. This automated function has earned an amazing new level of gratitude from you, a new level of meaning. You've been forcefully ejected from the mindless pattern you were in & suddenly find yourself in a new, beautiful world. The ocean is warm & kindly embraces you, holding you to the surface, the place you were dreaming about. The sun is bright & feels as though it will never set again. You can taste the salt on your lips and you have no thoughts, just an overwhelming gratitude, a relief, a feeling of sinking back into the perfection of your painless body.
You are here. You are alive.
I am the ocean.
Lovely, little sadist living in Toronto, Ontario. This is my journal, where my brain gets to play.