How can anyone know where it is that they are supposed to go? In what
direction they are to move?
Who controls the will, and who knows how to navigate a ship that intends
to sail in to unknown waters?
I am a captain of a vessel without a map in my hand. A captain with no
hands to hold the helm.
The signs in my life are not so simple to read, and I have made a habit
of telling myself that I am trying my best, even though I know this to be a
lie.
We desire to seek pleasure and all the while we strive to avoid pain; a
simple task in theory, but these waters are chaotic and unforgiving.
Sometimes I think we get confused and do just the opposite, as if we
have no other intention but to head to the bottom as fast as we possibly can.
There is no denying that I steer this lost ship straight out and in to
hostile waters willingly, and I know that it will be a fight to stay above the
waterline every step of the way.
I am always fighting the will of the undertow to see if I deserve to
rise above it.
I challenge this aggression inside me, to see how far it might be
willing to take me, and to see how far past my limits I can actually go.
I seek to stand against the will of Fate, and to sail straight into
those painful waters that surround me, and for no other reason than because I
can, so I will.
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