I feel an ocean inside of me. The water swirls and boils with such a passion for life that a thick layer of white froth is all that comes to the top. I reach down into the scalding water and try to hold on to the energy I can feel just beneath the foam. The power that beats the surface of the water into a seething sea of steam is always just out of my grasp. I can feel the heat of the water burning my arms as they slide in deeper and deeper, but no matter how many times I try I can’t find anything to hold on to.
There is so much I want from this life. I want to grab onto the energy I feel inside of me and ride the waves until there is nothing left, but no matter what I do I can still feel it slipping from my fingers. I feel the water dripping away like the passage of time. It’s the days that pass insignificant and unaccomplished.
Sometimes I can feel the passion of the ocean inside of me trying to spill passed my lips. It beats against my teeth with sandy hammers, but I refuse to let it out. It fights and fights, but I jealously swallow it back. I refuse to let the power of the ocean leave me.
Somedays I feel like I’ve lost the ocean entirely. I reach inside myself but all I find is a sea of sand, the grains whipped by a wind of isolation, of desolation, a wind that blows and blows until I’m covered in the sand and no matter how far I climb up I find nothing but a scratching darkness clinging to my skin.
On the best days I float on the surface of the water, below a sea of sunlight. It’s an effortless, weightless suspension, being on that water. It’s music, and the feeling of sunlight kisses on your shoulders.
I want to see this life. I want to touch, feel, taste, and live this life until there is nothing left for me to experience. I see oceans all around me, and I want them all. With each new ocean I consume I want to grow and grow until I am the universe, with all of life known and unknown inside me, and when I can’t consume anymore I want to hold all of my oceans in my arms and whisper that I was there. I want to brush my name across the surface of the universe inside of me in stars that never die, and when my time is done, and the universe inside of me collapses in on itself and erases everything that is and was, I want it to collapse in a wave of warmth.
I see oceans around me. I feel oceans inside of me. And as each ocean passes me by I reach out and try to hold on, to tell it to stop and wait for a while, to let it know that I’m afraid of the ocean leaving without knowing my name. But no matter how far I reach or how loud I yell the ocean ebbs and flows. My name is washed out of the sand, and the water slips away until everything is gone except me.
Me, alive. Me, a sea of oceans.