I'm far out from shore, the beach of this island. The water keeps deciding between warm hums of waves and frigid streams of icy neglect. I'm still close enough to swim back to land. Back to paradise. Adrift now as the last company of light leaves me, alone in the dark uncertain waters. I could swim back but I don't. Every moment pulls me away just more and more, eventually passed that threshold where I am no longer of the island's influence, and under currents stamp their dangerous, primordial claim on me. Offering me to that wide-mouthed abyss; directionless, perceivably infinite and unfamiliar, with only a world I can never belong to, awaiting me under the surface. My body wants to swim back, while there's time, every second demands more effort, distance is fed and increasingly strengthen. I could and should go back to paradise. But I know the truth. I know why action won't support thought, why the membranes of each nerve cell won't respond to the screams in my head, as crushing as these far waves, I know who I am and what I can do. I know, though paradise home may be, Its not one I deserve. I simply take and take from the land, I dry out its resources and offer no maintenance. There is no synergy, I do not live with it, with the core of my essence existing parallel and synchronized with the nature of eden. Without a god to expel me, I still must go. I must be exiled. Afloat, my chest and head facing back as the many hands of the surf push me away. This is a place for someone willing to be one with that nature, who can submit himself wholly, without compromise and still functioning under insistence of his purest will.
dailybridgerton
origamiaround
prguitarman
gummygunk
areudirty
stormborns
