Sometimes it’s hard to breathe. Sometimes the world closes in on your lungs like the mountains need your breath and the ocean wants your soul. Moonbeams of indefinite prosperity gleam down upon your skin like a bridge made of children’s dreams. They dance along your goosebumps, trying to calm your racing heart. You cannot see, you cannot hear. All you know is the deceptively comforting pale, white walls of your world, but you do not live in a world, you live in a cage. You have never closed your eyes and let yourself be guided by the wind, an everlasting pool of transparent anger trying to rule the world, but never getting farther than vice president. You will never know the deep blue waves crashing methodically onto the shore, howling and groaning their way through a job that they will never finish.
Oceans can be selfish, you know. They own 70% of the world and they’re still not satisfied. Their deep blue rivers of fear snake their way under our skin and into our veins, never content until we define ourselves by anxiety and pain. Cages may hide us from the waves, but they also shield us from our own hidden hearts, wallowing in the loneliness of pale, white walls with a transparent roof that yields only to prosperity that is no longer indefinite.