• Sinking.

    Why are there bubbles? I wonder where I am...

    I see an angel fish, mother. It's beautiful. It's long dorsal fin flaps lazily in the water when it swims, and the deep blue scales shine and reflect the sunlight. I wish I was an angel fish, father. I want to live under the sea.
    -x-
    I can feel myself sinking, although i'm partially unconcious. My body is gliding effortlessly through the water. I feel like i'm floating through clouds, and I cant breathe. I peek at my surroundings through my drooping eyelids. Large chunks of flourescent red coral that are twined with sickly seaweed line the sandy ocean floor, and smaller pieces jut out in various directions.

    There are plenty of fish too. There are meek clown fish that occasionally vanish into their anenomes, and lazy Lion fish gently flapping it's fins and slowly searching the clear waters. Fish are mindless, they needn't worry nor think. Much unlike humans, fish do not judge, they do not hate. They're just another pawn on the board, tragically. We all play a miniscule part in this chess game, each one of us somehow tied to the King and Queen.

    They say the King is God. But honestly, I have never felt tied to Him, I have never felt loyal enough. I never thought that he needed my faith, for he had the faith of so many others. Why have a beaten down buggy for a car, when you can have various expensive and shiny new cars at your disposal? I never quite understood the concept of God. I mean, sure, there was some way that the universe was created, but nobody really knows what's going on. We humans.. We assume. We stick to our opinions because in our mind, that is what's right in our heads. We tell ourselves what we say is true, when really, somehwere tucked into the back of your brain, you know that somehow you're wrong. Over time, you learn to push it aside, not wanting to deal with the constant nagging of the truth. Why have the truth when you can lie to be happy?

    Sadly I have to wake up soon, and I must leave my thoughts to be buried in the sand. I can leave the peace and tranquility of the ocean, to wake up to the train wreck we call "life". Back to where stomach acid bubbles, and where your brain is foggy from sleep deprivation. Where the teenagers are misunderstood, and where the mentally ill are isolated from social life in those white rooms, in those white halls. Where, somehow, therapists have the answers, and there are no treasure maps to find them for yourself.