“There are only patterns, patterns on top of patterns, patterns that affect other patterns. Patterns hidden by patterns. Patterns within patterns. If you watch close, history does nothing but repeat itself. What we call chaos is just patterns we haven’t recognized. What we call random is just patterns we can’t decipher. what we can’t understand we call nonsense. What we can’t read we call gibberish. There is no free will. There are no variables.”
- Chuck Palahniuk, Survivor
Oceans.
I feel as it begins, as the tide pulls me in. I feel the water,
churning around me, dark and stormy. My chest tightens, as my
lungs fill with sea foam, with brilliant shades of white and
pale green, their hues choking me slowly. My legs are like
weights, and I begin sinking to the bottom of the sea, coughing
and sputtering and gasping for air. I struggle to hold onto the
world, or what’s left of it – the small sliver of
light I can see shimmering above me. There’s nothing to
grasp onto, nothing to anchor me. The waves crash, and so do I,
I keep drowning like there is no bottom, simply unexplored
ocean, taking me to depths I have never been to before. Last
time, I was able to swim back out, just barely, still soaking
and dripping, the water droplets remnants of my near-death. Not
this time, though. I don’t know if I can pull back out,
if I can bear to carry myself through the waters back to shore,
while knowing that some day, I will face this sea again. If I
survive, I know I’ll have to; I always do. And I know the
oceans will be waiting.
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