Description There is a planet of an ocean in a universe that I govern alone. I navigate this ship less sea with nothing but my hands and feet for my vessel was overturned long ago. The waters are cold, but numbness is to warmth what cigarettes are to food. It is only a matter of time before the pain passes for a while. I will be distracted by my vivid, fleeting memories, until I am jerked back to realities of icy, burning saltwater flooding into my eyes and nose. Swept under sheets of violent foam, I fight for reasons to hold my breath for just one more moment. Eventually, the inky, shredding waters will push the air from my lungs. I sink like a stone. It has happened so many times before that I don't even fear the point where all of the lights and pain fade away into black, ugly dreams, the ones that border the end of the world. I would swear that I have laid out on the ocean floor for weeks on end. These times are streaked with nightmares & daydreams & staring through miles of sea at the sky. But, somehow, every time, without motivation or air, I do not die. I simply rise to the surface to continue the endless quest for fulcrum.