It's not easy, but I'm trying. I'm trying to get myself out of your clutches yet every time it seems I'm losing a part of me in this fight.
What I'm doing? I asked, finding myself disheveled. That wasn't something I longed for, then why I'm here, on the land of nobody except you, still nobody for me yet I'm for you. I find deep silence, deeper than the Mariana trench yet shallow ironically for me, for that silence couldn't wet my doubts, not even partially, regenerating around me. So should I leave this here and search for something new? New always entice folks as it please their mind. Or should I give a pause for renaissance, for I have seen old monuments renovating over the period of time, as that's how they maintain their beauty beside history! Well it's not at all easy. Once you dive into, you're filled with it. Your ears, eyes, nose, mouth and all the doorways permits only the fluid. Even the receptors manipulate, calling it a daydream to the little ignored over heart, the brain. Trust me it isn't.
Until you don't float, you will be in delusion about the vast stretched sky above you, I know it has its limit unlike the space but trust me you need to cross the prior for the later. So do you still want to surrender yourself to the ocean who sinks at the feet of land that kisses the sky? It's upto you.
I know it's not easy, but I'm trying. I'm trying to swim to the surface before I float involuntarily.