You know that feeling of floating in the ocean?
The feeling of squinting into the bright, blue sky, examining the stark white clouds and knowing at any second a wave is going to wash over you and ruin your personal contemplation?
That’s where I am.
This trip is the only thing that is keeping me sane.
Those clouds provide me with focus. I’m floating here, for no reason in particular, and I watch the clouds. Something that is so intangible becomes a rabbit, or a sailboat, or a flower, or a horse…. And you somehow know that if you could just get up there, you could pet that rabbit, captain that sailboat, pick that flower, or ride that horse.
But you can’t get there. Cause there is no solidity in the water for you to stand on.
So you float in the salty water. And you know that someday you are going to touch those clouds, but until then you have no purpose, no additional goals. So you float.
Those unsettling waves wash over you: no summer job, most of your friends have deserted the area, your trusty car now belongs to your younger brother, and there are no quick trips to Oberlin.
This summer is floating. I would call it drowning, but there is no desperation or lack of air. I can envision my trip. Everything I do somehow gets me closer to it. However, I cannot touch it…. Yet.
2 months… (2 months, 1 week)
The feeling of squinting into the bright, blue sky, examining the stark white clouds and knowing at any second a wave is going to wash over you and ruin your personal contemplation?
That’s where I am.
This trip is the only thing that is keeping me sane.
Those clouds provide me with focus. I’m floating here, for no reason in particular, and I watch the clouds. Something that is so intangible becomes a rabbit, or a sailboat, or a flower, or a horse…. And you somehow know that if you could just get up there, you could pet that rabbit, captain that sailboat, pick that flower, or ride that horse.
But you can’t get there. Cause there is no solidity in the water for you to stand on.
So you float in the salty water. And you know that someday you are going to touch those clouds, but until then you have no purpose, no additional goals. So you float.
Those unsettling waves wash over you: no summer job, most of your friends have deserted the area, your trusty car now belongs to your younger brother, and there are no quick trips to Oberlin.
This summer is floating. I would call it drowning, but there is no desperation or lack of air. I can envision my trip. Everything I do somehow gets me closer to it. However, I cannot touch it…. Yet.
2 months… (2 months, 1 week)
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