31 July 2012
I have been swimming for a long time. Glittering blue expands in every direction; I see no other colour now. The salt cracks my lips under the heat of the relentless sun, my eyes are dry and sunken.
Yet here I float, here I swim. The sharks don't bother me anymore, I know them too well. Nothing bothers me out here anymore, I just swim.
When my legs grow tired, as they often do, I pull myself onwards with each finger gripping into the waves. When my arms are tired, I kick to stay afloat.
But every muscle fibre has been tired for so long now, I wonder how I will carry on. And yet I do.
Sinking isn't an option. Just like flying isn't an option. There is only one escape from this world, this dimension of life.
I saw it glimmer once, chestnut bows and pure white sails drifting over the horizon. But I couldn't swim fast enough, he never saw me.
But now a small motor boat hums towards me, its outboard engine choking slightly on the sour seas. A strong hand reaches out to me, instant relief seeps through my bones.
No longer must I swim. Release me from this intermediate phase of life where I must swim to stay alive, and swim to live in hope of my perfect sail boat.
The motorboat is my safety net, he has given me release. Comfort, a pillow to rest my weary head in the cool shade.
But soon I remember - this is not going where I need - this isn't where I'm meant to be. A terror runs through me, how could I have lost sight of my goal?
I jump.
I return to the glistening, welcoming waves, I return to the torturous loneliness of the deep blue. Once again to swim between horizons, searching for the sail boat that is you.
Adrift • Opuss № I