chapter 1: sail away

There are times when I wish I could just forget the world...

If I could lay here; all day long, just lazing under the bright blue sky, with gulls chirping, with the wind against the sail, with the seawater splashing and regurgitating below deck. That will be perfect to my eyes, ears; that will be following my heart. I have no idea if it would be nauseating or not. But anyway, I have my trusty ginger pills stashed in the first aid kit. I just hope it doesn't go overboard, and sink to the bottom of Davy Jones' locker. That is the one of the only booty I brought along to this journey.

All on my own, I will question decisions, find out reasons why people did what they did. I will find what I need. I will find what it takes not to err again. This will be where I would escape for solitude. This is where I will lose my way, myself.

I am afraid. Do you ever feel that life is a constant cycle, each time reminding us of a glory, a mess, a lady, and the rest?

Does it matter that I feel like an ant crawling on the piece of Moebius strip i.e. in the above picture?

“There is the theory of the moebius. A twist in the fabric of space where time becomes a loop, from which there is no escape. When we reach that point, whatever happened will happen again.”

- Lieutenant Commander Worf, Star Trek: TNG, “Time Squared” -

"Why do you look so familiar? I swear that I have seen you before." - Have I? My head is gonna explode. I am ticked, confused. Something just isn't right.

I close my eyes again, trying to comprehend what my subconscious mind is whispering to me. I build a wall around the mess, and swear not to open this Pandora's Box for the sake of my crippled state of mind. I blame the 12th bottle of rum I had... was it last night? Or two nights ago? My mind is hell. Where's the first aid kit?? Something (couldn't be someone) is singing.

Stupid rudder... or was that the thunder? I need to sleep...