The More You Look

Why’s the ocean that specific shade of blue, the one that’s too warm to be sky but too chill to be just water? Chill, its a weird word, its also a state of mind and the physical shiver down your spine when the water touches the skin just right, and right, what’s right anyway about this floating rock of blues, like, is there a right way to spin, a right way to whirl through space, or are we just clinging on for dear life, life, which is what, a sequence of breaths and beats, beats that echo in the rhythm of the oceans, thrumming in my ears like the pulse of the universe, or is it just my blood rushing, trying to keep pace with the racing thoughts, thoughts that dart like fish in the deep blue, deep where the light doesn’t reach, where the pressure builds and crushes you into diamond or dust, dust to dust, they say, but what about the in-between, the glittering chaos, the madness of being, of seeing the world bend and twist, twist into shapes that dance, forms that could be gods or monsters, or both, monsters in our heads, in our beds, under the skin, crawling, clawing, breaking through to the surface, the surface which is calm, so deceptively calm, like that boat up there, just a speck, unaware of the colossal shadow that looms, looms like the unanswered questions, the what-ifs and the might-have-beens, been there, done that, they say, but have they really, really tasted the abyss, kissed the void and liked it, liked the sweet oblivion, the peace of not knowing, not seeing, not being, being, that’s the trip, the ultimate ride, no beginning, no end, just an endless loop, looping back to where we started, started from nothing, and in the end, isn’t that where we’re headed, back to the ocean, thinking stupid, blasphemous, beautiful thoughts about the color blue.