This ocean runs in my veins. It is me. I am but a drop in it.
Calm, yet restless.
Moving, and yet still.
Deep as depths. Shallow waves on the beach.
Paradoxical, moving yet unmoving, emotional and destructive, but soothing and comforting.
Only someone raised in a coastal region could relate to this behemoth. You can't ignore it. You are born to love it. It emcompasses your whole being. This ocean. This mere waterbody is everything.
Imagine diving into the depths. The silence. The complete and total isolation. That enormous sense of suppressed power, pulsating all around.
Bouying, cool water surrounding your being. Threat of the unknown. Primal, lurking sense of foreboding. Sharks, whales, who knows what! And yet...
And yet, that stupendous sense of powerful surrender to nature. The never ending, ever stretching, all encompassing vastness of saltiness. That brooding, moving mass which makes you float on itself and yet threatens to gulp you down its own unknown depths.
So why am I never scared of that water? Why do I feel so effortlessly powerful in that ocean? It soothes me, while stirring me with action. It teases me into mischief while calming down the repressed anger. That sea calls me and wants me to drown myself in its own depths, while egging me onwards with living my best life.
It binds me to itself with ancient promises, and unshackles me to live my days on my own terms.
I am made of the sea. I belong to the sands. The sea breeze lives in my tresses. I walk where the moon rests. I am the coast.
Waiting...
That eternal wake, that soul crushing certainty. That ecstatic emotion. I am the feeling of doom. To the sea I merge.
Of the sea I form...
