Broke, Free

[Salty]

There was once a wall here, cracked, worn from the sun and the massive swell of endless, brutal tidal forces. Those would, one would assume, at some point, stop their tireless erosion. One would assume those waves would have somewhere else to be, pulled elsewhere by a token of cosmic accountability.

One would be wrong.

From the top of that wall, perched along a creaking and groaning that comes from and stays in the gut, you can see all kinds of things in that water. Provided you can see anything beyond the horror of its relentless pursuit of breaking through the supports of your vantage point. If you look broadly enough you can see the gears that make those waves go. Suddenly, you can understand why there's nowhere for the waves to go. There's no greater force in control of this tireless enemy, it moves by its own machinations, with its own purpose.

In this knowledge, despite the cracks widening with each passing moment, there is a sense of comfort. Each one of these blows is a part of a larger set of controllable reactions. Change even one component and you change the whole of the machine. Possibly. This line of thinking, if nothing else, offers a reprieve from your self absorbed dispair.

Hope.

Then the wall comes crashing down. The mask slips. Pick your own damned metaphor,

After you pick yourself up from the ground, and clear debris from your person, you come into contact with your own meaty body as much as the ground.

The waves rise higher and higher, as though they were waiting for the perfect moment to swallow you whole.

Then a surprising thing happens. They stay there, they do not come crashing down at all. They hover, menacingly. To the foolish it would appear that they have stopped for good.

To anyone who listens to that small, still, sometimes stupid voice, it would be very apparent that the wall was never needed in the first place. To anyone with mental clarity in times of crisis it is obvious that you cannot keep it at bay forever.

And so, if you're lucky, you stand. And stand, and stand.

The pain of it will twist you up inside. The effort to keep that water from crushing you and choking the life out of you will cause your internal pressure systems to flip right into the red.

If you don't run, you will give out.

Then the water comes. The thing you built a wall to protect yourself from finally meet you.

And you don't die. You don't drown. You don't suffer.

The coolness and the sweetness of this water will cover you, surround you, and hold you fast. But it will not break you. It will caress your very soul with a tenderness unknown by the masses who do their best to build walls and cities within them for posterity.

You were once born in that water, and one day you'll die and go back to it. There could be nothing sweeter you could do with your life than make peace with that, tear down your walls, and laugh at those who think you mad.

OR KILL ME.

[Left]

Awesome

[Doktor Howl]

Madness - as opposed to mental illness - is just the ability to keep laughing, when everyone else is screaming.

[Salty]

I concur, Doktor.

[LMNO]

Whoa. Respect.

[Salty]

Whoa. Respect.

Thanks! That means a lot, dude.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

I missed this, too. It's great!

PD WHY AM I MISSING UNREAD POSTS??? 

[Salty]

Awesome! Id like to clean up the tenses and such and submit it for Bitter Tea. Or, i was thinking about turning it into a Visualization for the Bitter Tea Revolutionary.

[EK WAFFLR]

Brilliant!

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

Awesome! Id like to clean up the tenses and such and submit it for Bitter Tea. Or, i was thinking about turning it into a Visualization for the Bitter Tea Revolutionary.

Yes, PLEASE!

[Salty]

BAMP because I need this for editing and whathaveyou for Bitter Tea.