When you look at me you see the waves. You see the sunny blue sky. You see the surface. I am the masterpiece that appears on dentist’s office walls the world over. I am just above the monthly issues of “Time” and “Newsweek.” I am calming. I allow you to escape. You ask me “How are you Jay?” I respond, “I am great! Yourself?” You open your mouth and proceed to talk to the sea. The calming sea. The sea that has no problems. I ride with you. I laugh with you. I smile with you, and the entire time you do not realize that you are riding with the ocean in your car. You are having lunch with the depths of the Earth. You are on the phone with the aquatic ruins of Atlantis.

No. You only see the waves. You only see the sunny blue sky. You only see the surface.

I am a lie. A dangerous lie.

I am what lies beneath.

Just beneath the surface are my feet. These are the tools I used for the run. The run away from the shore. The run that eventually led to the dive, plunging me headlong into a sea of myself. The sea of me. Am I the only one here? These are dangerous waters and few have been able to survive them. This sea only asks for two things; understanding of it’s state and for you to maintain the secrecy of it’s many wonders. Yet many divers rarely make it past my feet, who upon receiving word that someone is attempting to publish their secrets, quickly kicks them into the current. Pick up your towels. Welcome back to the surface.

Deeper into this sea is my torso. My torso, fighting with all of it’s power to further plunge into this abyss of myself. This sea of me. I am here, struggling and fighting. And alone. Not by choice. Even at this point I have allowed other divers to join. The joy that I get while watching them attempt to brave this trek with me is only rivaled by the pain I feel when I realize they to will perish. They to will retreat, leaving me with feelings of betrayal and questions. If you made it this far, why would you turn away? Why would you retreat? I will not let this sea harm you. This sea of me.

At the depths of the sea, near to the floor is my head. My head feels the pressure of these depths. The pressure of outside influence attempting to make their way in. The water here is so dense that it works in effort to push me back to the surface. I know why I am here. I know what I am searching for. I just hope that it is here. Understanding. At this depth I am alone. I have not allowed another diver to reach these depths. Even when I try, this sea of myself ejects them. This wicked sea of me. No, here I am meant to be alone. Or at least it seems.

So many of you are standing on the shore. You are on the shore looking at me and wanting to dive in. I invite you. But beware, beyond these waves lies danger. Danger for the untrustworthy. Danger for would be pirates, only searching for personal gain. I am a public beach and I welcome all to bathe on it’s shores. Have a dip even, and the sea of me shall wash away your troubles and take them within myself. I take them and I tuck them in the depths.

But I can not be with you on the shore, for I am at the bottom. Alone. Where there is no light and little air. In fact there is only a bubble. I have no name for it. I am too confused here to cleverly title it. So I just call this bubble, Air. In this bubble I put all of my secrets. And if I am to die at these depths this bubble will float back to the surface. And in the face of you pirates this bubble will release the truth. The truth that lies beneath the sea of me.

plunge.

In: Messages in metaphors | | #