She watched the waves splash all around her, breathing in the salty, musky scent of the sea.
The water was clear, biting cold, and strong-willed, it seemed. It existed for the sake of making an impact wherever it landed; it moved with such force that she consistently forgot it wasn't a breathing creature. Every once in a while there was one wave that hit the shore with a stronger blow than the others. Those ones she remembered most clearly. She watched them with a particular curiosity and interest and wanted to remember everything about them. She was in awe and oblivion of her own existence whenever she permitted herself this excersise. She forgot her body and her other life, she forgot what it feels like to think rationally about any other part of her awareness. It didn't matter as much as the water did. It was all around her. She was now waist-deep in the ocean. She wanted to walk further. She wanted to get her arms wet too, dive in and swim, and she wanted to find that one point where her feet wouldn't know how far the sand was underneath them. And she wanted to swim so far down that she would forget which way the surface is. Then one day she would forget what air feels like and realize that she didn't need it to continue to breathe. The vital functions told her that they were now fully supported, in a wholly new fashion. She realized how superfluous her old world was. It seemed ancient and forgotten now, and looking back there was no nostalgia. There were no memories. There was only the water and the certain, quiet promise of better things. She smiled to herself when she realized that (this entire time) the ocean belonged to her, that it was her mind all along that has created the strongest waves she has seen.
The salty, musky scent was thick in her lungs and laced her blood now. The scent was radiating from her skin and concentrated itself in her eyes with a depth and stillness that only centuries can grant. She felt at home. And with a final determined push she would collect her will and being, and resign herself to the sea.
The water was clear, biting cold, and strong-willed, it seemed. It existed for the sake of making an impact wherever it landed; it moved with such force that she consistently forgot it wasn't a breathing creature. Every once in a while there was one wave that hit the shore with a stronger blow than the others. Those ones she remembered most clearly. She watched them with a particular curiosity and interest and wanted to remember everything about them. She was in awe and oblivion of her own existence whenever she permitted herself this excersise. She forgot her body and her other life, she forgot what it feels like to think rationally about any other part of her awareness. It didn't matter as much as the water did. It was all around her. She was now waist-deep in the ocean. She wanted to walk further. She wanted to get her arms wet too, dive in and swim, and she wanted to find that one point where her feet wouldn't know how far the sand was underneath them. And she wanted to swim so far down that she would forget which way the surface is. Then one day she would forget what air feels like and realize that she didn't need it to continue to breathe. The vital functions told her that they were now fully supported, in a wholly new fashion. She realized how superfluous her old world was. It seemed ancient and forgotten now, and looking back there was no nostalgia. There were no memories. There was only the water and the certain, quiet promise of better things. She smiled to herself when she realized that (this entire time) the ocean belonged to her, that it was her mind all along that has created the strongest waves she has seen.
The salty, musky scent was thick in her lungs and laced her blood now. The scent was radiating from her skin and concentrated itself in her eyes with a depth and stillness that only centuries can grant. She felt at home. And with a final determined push she would collect her will and being, and resign herself to the sea.
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