There is nothing better than stepping back into your own skin.
Sometimes we seem to go through times in which we aren’t totally ourselves but there are always those people who bring us right back to who we are. They become our home base, an anchor for our true identities.
Dark from the absence of both the moon and the sun my crew set forth on a journey through the Caspian Sea. We had enough food for two months and enough liquor to ward off any pirates. The port and starboard held together the vessel in whom we trusted: the Seawater Serpent. Being captain of this ship meant I knew it from the inside and outside. I put faith in it, so I have confidence that she will deliver us to our destination.
The cold morning winds meet the warm water and create a dense fog. Sailing through it we reach land a few weeks later.
Desperate for adventure we seek the Fountain of Youth. Blazing torches and damp hems all in a shoeless pursuit of eternal adolescence. Leading them through a dark jungle we sing songs of lost love and pesky business.
We wake up in piles of each other. His arm is sprawled across my stomach and her feet rest on my shins. He sleeps with his face in the sand while he has his toes slightly in the waters. They are far off, all using the closest person as a pillow in some way.
Adventure hangovers are the best.
After ruining their perfect slumber with a song I wrote as I went involving “little lost boys” they laughed and rubbed their temples to clear them of the insanity that was last night.
While some went off to get breakfast she and I draw art in the sand with anything we can find. Designs of flowers that beg to be real cover the shore. Words act out a theatrical tale between the pebbley petals.
I dig my feet into the sand and fall into the jungle.
This is who I am.
Full of life in the quietest, boldest parts of me. I seek the long, overdue abolition of time and nights that incase you in your youthful ambitions. He tells me everything because we trust each other. He shared a hammock with me during our travels and with those nights he shared his heart in its entirety. We love each other so we have no boundaries. My crew and I are relentlessly shoving the boundaries of convention. Music, miles and mayhem. Sometimes I wonder how people live without our spark and I pity them. Life is too good to miss out on.
A massive fire lights the night for us.
We dance and sing like that is our sole purpose. He swings me around in his arms and kisses my head as he lets him take me for a dance. I laugh so much my heart seems full. She jumps from a pile of driftwood into his outstretched arms and we all clap as he catches her. Having fetched the drums from the ship we created the rhythm of heartbeats colliding into one steady sound. Raising our glasses and flasks we dare the sun to show itself.
Jumping. Tiptoe, heel, spin and smile. Soon enough we end up laying on the shore wondering what lurks in the unknown parts of the sea.
To live, supported by joy, is the easiest choice one can make. Find those who see you in your worst and still love you. Take their hands and run from the world that shoves you into a box that society has assigned to you. Don’t forget to grab your courage on your way out of town. Adjust the sail and pull the rusted anchor of your ancestry out of the water.
Set sail for sanity and salvation.
Inhale possibility and flirt with danger. It keeps that heart of yours pounding.
Now I must be off, the treasure map awaits us.