Friday, September 3, 2010
The sea was plastic, like the kind you find on the screen-saver of a computer; lifeless and unassuming and yet somewhat soothing. It was too smooth like a thick frosting on a cake just waiting to be disturbed. I would like to take a knife and leave a mark on this soft cushion of water. Sadly, not even the rough sawing of a dozen sea-faring vehicles could disturb this peace; the sea merely folded onto itself , returning to the stillness it was before. The baby sea was playful, clutching tightly onto a ferry and rocking it gently sideways like a child with its bathroom toys, bouncing and buoying the ferry, providing its passengers with a short ride before getting bored. I cannot bring myself to hate it; it dances its seductive dance. I cannot forget what it took from me, but like looking into the eyes of an innocent child, I can't bring myself to hate it; and the bestial urge disappears.
fire and ice clashed at [11:18 AM]