existing

I had another conversation with the ocean today:

I’ve been noticing that I actually adapt to the things I write in order to build my own character now. I might’ve added way too many rules for myself to adhere which is most likely the root cause of an over-thinker but I think that is slowly changing. To be concise, I will become blunt this year not necessarily in my words (I’m already way too blunt) but rather my feelings. Avoidance to everything I felt was all I ever knew in order to protect myself from my own brain. Being agreeable, nonchalant and considerate I thought was the only way society socially accepted. If you’ve ever screamed into the ocean when the tides are rising, you know that the voices go in will never come out. No matter how loud you are, her waves will hit the reefs even louder. To let my voice be heard, even if it seems to fade into society's cacophony, just as my screams into the rising tides are swallowed by her more powerful waves.

Unlike the ocean, I hate the ugliness of everything else that goes around me. I hate it so much that most of the time I feel like my heart is gushing out surgical blood because theres no other way to silently protest. There’s a difference for going to the ocean during daytime instead of nighttime. Daytime is for many and nighttime is for only. When my grandpa was healthy enough to teach me calligraphy, he always told me to picture the sounds of the splashing at night when I wrote down the phono-semantic sounds of the word ocean. He was a man who had a deep love for literature and everything in between that he considered art. He taught me to be a mellow, calm and genuine character. My understanding of this might’ve been too literal which is why I became so passive. My decision resulted in some dark circles that hollowed out a whole cave. If my grandpa saw me now, he would definitely laugh in a few keys higher than his throat really allows and tell me I have bags darker than his favorite ink.

In contrast with my introspective solitude, I will shift to a a few things I noticed about my sister’s cat child is that Yuzu’s friendliness as well as versatility to her environment. Looking at her, my mind continuously wonders to the thought of the ever ending in which the joke passed among friends that I will end up alone with ten cats seem almost visible by hand. A cat knows how to fix and groom her own fur, a human doesn’t know how to take care of herself until a cat comes along asking to be taken care of. Her presence, though simple and unassuming, serves as a constant reminder of giving myself simplicity and self-reliance in life. It's in these quiet moments, watching her navigate the world with ease, that I find myself questioning the complexities I've woven into my own existence. There's a certain rawness in speaking to the feline; it's like baring your soul to an entity that understands the language of the heart. It feels reassuring.

[because day one]

Here, in the lap of the endless blue,

stars and I, under the same canvas,

learn the languages of rise and fallen.

My heart finds its rhyme,

a promise of tomorrow’s echo,

a cradle of lost yesterdays,

and a tide for the cries of the bygone.

My story sewn into the seams of waves,

I am home, unspoken, but known.

For what is worth, I’m going to spend my entire life learning how to live and every breath will be a step towards a truth I'll never fully know. If you’ve read up till now, thank you for being in this corner with me. As always, I hope you have a great day!