It all happened so fast. You were drowning in your epiphany, your discoveries, and now, you can't even feel the water that surrounds.

"This is too difficult." you think, as you try to feel again. The ocean you drown in now is not the one you want to die in. Wrong ocean.

You want to drown in information, feel the knowledge flooding your lungs, the insight drip down your legs, but it doesn't happen.

Instead, you stand in a desert, the reality of this never sinking in. You drown in an imaginary ocean.

Your heart beats fast as you hope the pills work. Something needs to pull you out of these fake waters, because you can't swim anymore.

It's almost hopeless; all you have is yourself and the distant voices that tell you they care. Thank god you always had trouble giving up.

Or not. You never believed in a god. You do, however, believe in yourself. "This water's no match for me." you think, crying. You're scared.

"It's fine." you say, holding up your fishbowl. "Consume improbability..." you whisper, remembering your own words. You stare at the glass.

"Become impossible" you had once said. If walking on dry land again was impossible, then that's exactly what you'd do. You eat the fishbowl.

You cry as you do so, the tears fall, reminding you there is no ocean. "You are not drowning, you are in dry land." You say.

You wonder what's going to happen next. You sit and wait, smiling. "It's okay. It's okay." you say to yourself. You cry some more.

It really is okay. It's scary, but it's okay. You're going to be fine.