Paddle Out Past The Break

And so another week begins as the last will forever end and become nothing more than a small figment of my memory. It’s odd how quickly they come and go, arrive and disappear in an instant. Life is truly an illusion. She is a few brief moments disguised as many decades of experiences.

In the moments I paddle out past the break, to the mountainous waves, I rise and I fall continuously. The time is peaceful and destructive simultaneously. Looking back I can see them on the shore. They are ants behind me. I am alone in the massive gulf. I am free.

The creatures of the deep leave me in peace as I respect their sacred home. The mysteries are theirs to keep. The ants wave and watch, but they are far gone. I will return to them soon enough. The water appears to go on forever. Aside from maps and globes, I just might believe in an endless ocean.

There’s a large white cloud slowly making its way to cover the burning sun. A plane flies high above, yet far below the cloud. No one can cover the sun forever. She always returns. They fly over without seeing the beauty below. I am an ant to them and they are nothing to me.

Once I leave, will I return? Or will the cloud hide me for the rest of my existence? Will the seemingly endless ocean engulf me in her massive body, forever to decay in darkness with the creatures? Will I venture too far, never able to return as I am lost in a sea of exploration?

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