I'm stranded at sea and none of you can come to my rescue. You can't rescue me because you already tried. You saw me there, broken, not knowing what the problem was, but maybe you were the solution. I thought you were. I didn't realize that being stranded was the solution. This is for each of you. This is for every I love you that I grabbed hold of only to pull you down with my panic. When you're drowning the key thing is to remain calm so that you can actually be saved, but I pull and push with vigour and fury.
So I should drown. I should stay out here in this sea to find the calm deep blue I keep idolizing. I am on my voyage after all, as I keep telling myself. Well as a voyage on, know this, know what it is I'm hoping to find. Nothing. I hope to find nothing. God willing I hope to finally find nothing. Room, space, an empty cup. They all mean the same thing. I need to create. I am pregnant with something different than love, so my creation will not be what is wanted. But I gotta get this shit out of me and into the streets.
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