A muted wave washes over your senses, silencing you with its austere force. You’re ocean-blue, battered blue, blue-blue. However the water moves, you carve your sides to accommodate the physics. In the back of your mind there’s a resonance of stories past about the life of water, the kindness of water, the fluidity of water; a resonance silenced yet again by the force of water, the persistence, and the stillness, then flow.
You oscillate ever so slightly as one wave carries you through a vastness of life trapped beyond your senses. You know there’s no way out: how dare you? So you fight to let life break in. Let it start a riot that will force you to your knees, that’ll guide you to land, any land. To kiss the soil, to plant a seed, to dance to something that isn’t deafening silence.
That isn’t the music within.
That isn’t your favourite laugh.
That isn’t your dreams.
You ripple again across the ocean with a distant promise of an insurgence. Listen. Keep listening through the vacuum. Hell is full of screaming.