It was all wrong. Try as she might the world never stopped turning. Not that she wished for it too, merely for things to feel right. It had been such a long time…it was as if life sucked its self away from her, swirling down a dark, silly path with no purpose. All the plans, points, meaning, what did it matter? Like gray matter weighting on the soul it sucked itself clean, dry as an oyster cut out of its shell. Raw, bland, white, with nothing to hold it.
Grasping a moment only matters if the deed is done. A ship cannot sail without the wind to blow behind it- a goal can’t be reached if there’s no way to move forward, to navigate the rudder. When no wind is blowing it leaves nothing in its wake. It was all right, it really was but…somehow the storm never came and the winds died. The ship had no where to go and simply loitered on the calm sea. No movements were felt, no motion, no current; the world had become flat and empty. Still as glass, the moment became frozen, an entire ocean of ice. It was not cold, merely a reflection of immobile mirror. Time stood silent. Movement became impossible.
But that was just ridiculous, for no life could stop moving- it was all a choice. And this ship was choosing to remain on the windless current, unmoving. Like grasping its fingernails into soft clouds there was nothing there, merely a mist that sprayed. It was sweet, cleansing but left nothing behind; it was like wishing to grasp iron and steel, a material one could dig hand and nails into. Instead there was only grey mist. Like trying to ride a rainbow when you had no where to steer…going nowhere, but because the ship was merely worthless.
But it wasn’t, it was more than that. Striving, it wanted to strive, wanted to sail, wanted to explore but it kept dying, docking on invisible pools of calm pockets. Unmoving, no motion, utter stillness…over and over. How does a ship sail when there’s nothing to grasp and no way to move? Just hold on, just ignore the pain inside, just keep moving. Cut it up, pretend the ship is built of steel- there is nothing it cannot cut. It will clean the way, cut it free so it doesn’t have to move. But then why does it feel so lonely? What is the point of having a place of steel if it’s not moving because its wishes to? The ship just falls down a stream and can’t get up but it’s only the ship’s bad navigation. All the others on the other sailing ships will say the same, laughing, yelling, advising with nothing but words. But words can’t carry. But no other ship can save this little ship. The ship certainly won’t drown but it doesn’t seem to be able to move…
Should the ship care? Should the ship move? Which current is better? Certainly there is more to strive for, more to explore- there is adventure and love and life. Its there beyond the horizon. Isn’t it?