Friday, 27 January 2012


I had a dream I was born floating on water that was only one foot deep, and during a bright sunny day.  I liked the warmth of the sun, the feeling of floating, the coolness of the water, and the feeling of happiness.

When I learned that I could touch the sea bottom, I became fascinated by the security.  It was steady.  It didn't move.  I desired to know more about it.  I set out to see more of it: I carved out a dry spot for myself.  I put up barriers, and with cups, I tossed  out the water.

However, no matter how deeply I planted the barriers, water would always eventually come to moisten the sand beneath me.  Tirelessly I would carve out my dry spot, desperate to keep the water out, and to enlarge it.

As tides made the water levels rise and fall, I just made my barriers taller when they were higher, and my circumference wider when they were low.  That is, I took advantage of the low tides as opportunities to prepare, and weathered the storms by building my walls as it became necessary.

But one day, the tide just kept rising.  I kept building higher, but not fast enough to match the rate.  I could no longer broaden my space.

At some point, it rose at such a speed that I could not keep up.  To keep the water out, I had to close the top.

However, even after enclosed, the tide rose, and the pressure with it.  I reinforced my barriers by making my space smaller, taking bits from other places to do so ... until my space got so small, I could barely move ... until the pressure rose so high that in spite of all of my reinforcements, a drop yet managed to fall into my dry spot.  It was then that I knew it was over.

It was time to either move to shore .. or become amphibious.

Question was: were either even possibilities?

Maybe I was destined to drown.
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