With a change of the wind, the storm pulls you out to sea. What was at first a rebirth rapidly becomes something else. Something worse. A vicious reopening of new wounds on already scarred flesh.
Why do we do this? Why do we dream? If there is a god how could he be so cruel to give me the heart and mind he did?
I’d pay money to be stupid. I’d give a limb to not feel such emotion. We are the cursed race, humans. With all the power to create, love, feel, but not the ability to stop it from being torn apart.
I am a fool. I always was. Back to drifting. It’s easier to die at sea than to swim for shore.
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