Somewhere along these stories are remnants of music flowing in between with their fibrous stronghold on the sequence of our lives.
Simply put, the way things were. And all along we had the faith. No matter how hard I cried, I knew I'd be alright.
I think at some point we need to. Not in the literal sense of blubbering on and on about things, but that isn't a completely terrible way to deal with things. It helps to keep reality in perspective, where we know when our will is tested and we fight til our energy drips off our fingertips like the leaky faucets found in poorly renovated inner-city studios.
It's almost liberating.
I remember almost drowning as a child. I was in my early teenage years and I realize now how little direction I was ever given. I had gone off swimming towards the island I could make out in the distance. It seemed to be no more than 90 yards away as I thought about exploring the sands of some hidden passage that led to stories worth sharing. I swam out despite the constant warnings I had hear about the current that pulls you under if you don't swim past it fast enough. The ground under the lake shore had broken off into an underwater cliff and the pull down was wicked. The force you remember as you played with the vacuum taunting the family dog by attacking his jowls.
But I kept swimming. I gently propelled my body towards the island. The shining sun was stronger than usual this afternoon, the sound of children playing in the shallow mouth, the smokey aroma of barbecued Hispanic food, the crisp click of beer cans opening echoed through the trees just like you see in the movies. Through the powerful rays of the sun that pierced the water's surface I could see the abysmal depths I had been warned about, and no sooner did I stare briefly into that darkness had I been dragged down. The force had consumed my legs in a relentless vice pulling me down. I kicked my legs and fanned my arms. I paddled so hard my bones ached.
I could feel the pressure come on. Light at first with a steady escalating weight pushing me down. I could feel the rocky edges tear away at my arms, the slight sting of broken skin has begun to take precedent over my body. The air in my lungs had grown thin. All the while my mind racing through thought-cycles pacing light years per mili-second.
This was it.
So much I would never know. So much I would never experience.
You never really stop to fully understand the fear that goes through a child's mind when faced with such reality. We all think the politically correct way "understanding" children's struggles and always talking about youth and never about what it must really be like to not know but understand that you will never do anything else.
The chapter end here. What have I got to show for it?
In the distance I can hear the light high-pitch clicking of rocks hitting each other from the falling debris. I could differentiate tears from the fresh water tomb. So I kept kicking.
That elevator-door-effect really holds its place as the gradient De-briefing of one's existence. The oxygen had been gone for minutes. I had been holding on like a fool. Barely moving. I shouted with the most primal desire to survive, yet I could not move.
Then all was quiet.
That rapid lift feeling on an express elevator heading up 12 stories rocketed my body, guiding me.
My head shot out of the waters surface like a bullet. The first breath was as harsh as it was enchanting. The shock had taken over, I had barely realized where I was. Splashing around trying to get to my feet. The broken rock had torn my knees up something fierce. As I stood up on the near by fallen trunk, knees bloodied, scraped, stomach in the same fashion. My eyes were pulsating from within their sockets. My skin felt warm being caressed by the sun yet I trembled from within.
I had no idea what happened, But I knew I was gonna be alright.
