I’m in a dreamy haze, it’s violet and cumbersome like a storm over over the ocean. The waves are rocky and break on the shore with beautiful and violent crashes. The sky rumbles, I close my eyes to the lightning that streaks across its inspiring expanse but never touches the earth nor the bed of the tumbling sea.
I want to float on the waves, let them toss and turn me over and over and breath in the salty air that grows colder as my body becomes used to the warmth of the storm waters. They take me farther and farther out into the dark blue until I am lost and see nothing but the violet clouds.
It’s strange that in this peculiar moment I cannot seem to write anything. I only seep farther and farther into myself seeking resolution, answers. I have a firm belief that we know all things through our own selves. As we are a part of the universe and the universe is a part of us. It’s only through those things that we see without seeing and believe without conscious logic that we find the hidden pieces to the puzzle that were there simply waiting tucked behind the corner of the box or under the other hundreds of pieces on the table. It only takes one to fit a dozen or so more… I seek that piece and I know I will find it if I don’t get too frustrated.
The mental ocean calms me, to float on its tremors. This is the safest place for me. No other one dares to cross over the land to seek for me in the stormy waters of my Wake. I can be alone here, in this corner of myself, without the bother of the millions of other pieces and people that take up the rest of me.
Perhaps I will come back with another seashell for my collection, if I cannot find the piece to another part of my puzzle, and I can set it on the cool pale shelves that hold the most beautiful selections of my inner core: those things which I share with few. I like that there are no moments here, time does not exist and fear is left on the wayside and buried deep under the sand dunes of the humanity I’ve left behind.