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The sea... · 4:58am Jan 18th, 2013

...why is it calling to me? Even now, through the pelting rain on my roof, I can't help but hear the roar of the waves as they break against the shore. It is a sound I hear every moment of every day, and it does not stop.

Its a roar. One primal and yearning; full of power and possibilities. A noise that began when the first raindrop fell on this world on ours, and it has never wavered. If you've ever seen the ocean in person, they know what I'm talking about. If not, then listen to the wind rustling through the trees, but even then, its not the same. Not even close.

When I wake, when I sleep, when I dream, I always hear those cursed and blessed waves. I have heard them ever since I left my mother's womb for they have always been there. It was always easy to find my place in the world... I was on the edge of it. It ended at the water's edge, regardless of whatever a map or globe taught me. That was the end of the world. I have stood a twixt land, sea, and sky for my entire life and my blood is bitter with the water that seems to engulf everything in my life. I have seen the ocean and its many faces and moods. I know its wrath, and its bounty. My lungs and skin know nothing but salt and spray, and I knew how to swim before I could stand.

The sea is apart of my life. I am apart of it.

What then, am I? Why does my heart yearn for lands beyond the shore my life has been shaped upon? Why does one voice say go, why the other cries stay? Am I suppose to watch over these shores? Is it my doom to play guardian over the thrice-gripped realm, my kingdom of earth, water, air, and light at the edge of the world?

Or... am I suppose to be sailing into the sunrise with the wind at my back? Am I suppose to let the sea carry me off on its back, and turn from the only home I have ever known and loved?

Now I'm just talking crazy... when I was little, my grandad used to tell me that I was a child of the ronta. My family has lived on the shore for generations. Its our heritage, our life and... and...

I don't know.

A little while ago, I woke up from a dream. Even now, I do not remember it fully, but I can say that I stood upon an unfamiliar stretch of beach. When I awoke, these words rung clear and bright in my mind. I know them, and they're from an irish legend about the warrior poet Oisin. For those of you whose scholarly pursuits step into celtic lore, and thus, know what I'm talking about, I salute you. If not...

Delightful is the land beyond all dreams,
Fairer than aught thine eyes have ever seen.
There all the year the fruit is on the tree,
And all the year the bloom is on the flower.

There with wild honey drip the forest trees;
The stores of wine and mead shall never fail.
Nor pain nor sickness knows the dweller there,
Death and decay come near him never more.

The feast shall cloy not, nor the chase shall tire,
Nor music cease for ever through the hall;
The gold and jewels of the Land of Youth
Outshine all splendours ever dreamed by man.

Thou shalt have horses of the fairy breed,
Thou shalt have hounds that can outrun the wind;
A hundred chiefs shall follow thee in war,
A hundred maidens sing thee to thy sleep.

That's what the dream left me with. I dont know why I'm thinking of it. I'm just weary, and exhausted, and I just want to get to sleep, but those damn waves won't stop. I hear them, and every time I do, I think and... I just don't feel right.

I'm going crazy, aren't I?

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Comments ( 11 )

yes. build a raft. do what your heart tells you.

This reads like a beautiful poem i found in high school once.

Don't know exactly what I should say, except, maybe you should go to the beach over the weekend. I love sailing myself, but I only go on lake Erie, never out in the ocean. Just try not to go too insane.

As a west-coaster born and raised in Oregon, heading to the coast in the summer was a highlight of my foalhood. Now I live on the east coast in New York. Still a couple hours to water, just like before. I'd say go hit the beach, enjoy a day out. Just don't do anything rash.

When I lived in Tofino I used to spend around 6 hours a day in the ocean. Straight. On average. Not in a boat. I get it.

If that's a story then please write it.

However, it speaks of a deep yearning to touch something that can't be held. To love that which cannot love in return.

Sad really.

Well three possibilities come to mind, off the top of my head:

You are, like nearly every human in civilization, profoundly unhappy and this is your subconscious's best effort to get your attention.

...or you missed a calling as a shaman and the tide is calling you to explore the edges of your reality.

...or you're actually a human/deep one hybrid and will soon have to abandon your human facade. (:fluttercry:)

Yeah your goin' crazy :trollestia:

Mmmmhhmmm sure are

>The sea is apart of my life
*a part

Don't build a raft. That is a good way to die.

But as somebody who is doing an Integrated Rating cert in a few months I completely understand.

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