(no subject)
And still I try to stay afloat, clawing at the too-tall waves bashing against the sides of my skull, sinking deeper until all I can see is a tunnel to the black, diamond-studded sky. The water tastes bad, salty with the misplaced aggressions and unfair snap judgements of the dozens of thousands of strangers in Babylon. Every one of them wears a mask, and they lash out at those wearing different masks than them. I can taste their unwillingness to accept in the waters, still attempting to envelop me.
But I will not let them envelop me. I will let my heart fill with the thoughts and hopes and memories and dreams of those others who decided not to wear a mask. And those thoughts and dreams and hopes and memories will fill me up until my chest becomes so buoyant that no waves can push me back under. And then, we can dance among those billions of diamonds while we wait for all the others to remove their masks and show their beautifully flawed faces.
But I will not let them envelop me. I will let my heart fill with the thoughts and hopes and memories and dreams of those others who decided not to wear a mask. And those thoughts and dreams and hopes and memories will fill me up until my chest becomes so buoyant that no waves can push me back under. And then, we can dance among those billions of diamonds while we wait for all the others to remove their masks and show their beautifully flawed faces.