Jun 2018
I’ve been to the Marianas Trench.
Many times, in fact.
I know- it sounds exotic and adventurous
but it’s not all it’s cracked up to be
My first visit to the trench caught me completely off guard.
There I was, just swimming along;
Unified with the bustling marine community-
Waves gently guiding me through the warm ocean waters.
And then I felt the pull- a slight tug at first
superficially annoying, albeit disregardable with some moderate effort.
But then the tug turned into a tow.
And the tow a yank.
And the yank an insurmountable drag
And before I could call out for help
I plummeted
into the bitter blackness of the trench.
36 thousand and 70 feet down, to be exact.
The first thing you need to know about the trench is its suffocating darkness.
An obsidian world so completely devoid of light...
you question if the sun ever actually existed.
In absolute darkness your senses become obscured.
There is no direction.
There is no up.
There is no escape.
And just when you think see a glimmer of hope pulling you into the light
You’re almost eaten by an Angler fish.
The trench is also cold.
Not the cryogenic insta-freeze kind of cold you might imagine
But a subtler cold, that envelops you-
A weighted blanket you just can’t escape.
It leaves your feelings just shy of numb,
mocking you so deeply with bleak awareness
that you’ll begin to envy Walt Disney.
But perhaps the worst thing about the trench is the pressure.
15 thousand 700 and 50 pounds per square inch.
The weight of the world is literally on your shoulders.
And no matter how hard you try
you just can’t seem to muster the spirit
to break free of the crushing embrace-
A shrouded anchor forbidding your liberation
From the grim canyon
And while those who have never been to the trench might say
“Just swim up.”
or
“You could leave if you really wanted to.”
They can never understand the profound yearning for escape.
I want to ascend.
More than anything.
But it’s not my choice
All I can do is wait
Until the trench releases me
And I slowly float toward the surface
My hope increasing with each new glint of sunlight.
And when I finally emerge and take my first breath...
My senses return
And the temperate waves welcome me with open arms
As I begin to comprehend my freedom,
Which at once seemed impossible.
But now I know
I’m going to be ok
Many times, in fact.
I know- it sounds exotic and adventurous
but it’s not all it’s cracked up to be
My first visit to the trench caught me completely off guard.
There I was, just swimming along;
Unified with the bustling marine community-
Waves gently guiding me through the warm ocean waters.
And then I felt the pull- a slight tug at first
superficially annoying, albeit disregardable with some moderate effort.
But then the tug turned into a tow.
And the tow a yank.
And the yank an insurmountable drag
And before I could call out for help
I plummeted
into the bitter blackness of the trench.
36 thousand and 70 feet down, to be exact.
The first thing you need to know about the trench is its suffocating darkness.
An obsidian world so completely devoid of light...
you question if the sun ever actually existed.
In absolute darkness your senses become obscured.
There is no direction.
There is no up.
There is no escape.
And just when you think see a glimmer of hope pulling you into the light
You’re almost eaten by an Angler fish.
The trench is also cold.
Not the cryogenic insta-freeze kind of cold you might imagine
But a subtler cold, that envelops you-
A weighted blanket you just can’t escape.
It leaves your feelings just shy of numb,
mocking you so deeply with bleak awareness
that you’ll begin to envy Walt Disney.
But perhaps the worst thing about the trench is the pressure.
15 thousand 700 and 50 pounds per square inch.
The weight of the world is literally on your shoulders.
And no matter how hard you try
you just can’t seem to muster the spirit
to break free of the crushing embrace-
A shrouded anchor forbidding your liberation
From the grim canyon
And while those who have never been to the trench might say
“Just swim up.”
or
“You could leave if you really wanted to.”
They can never understand the profound yearning for escape.
I want to ascend.
More than anything.
But it’s not my choice
All I can do is wait
Until the trench releases me
And I slowly float toward the surface
My hope increasing with each new glint of sunlight.
And when I finally emerge and take my first breath...
My senses return
And the temperate waves welcome me with open arms
As I begin to comprehend my freedom,
Which at once seemed impossible.
But now I know
I’m going to be ok
