chicks, pants, showing it all, dancing


See the Shadows of Innocence and Sanity

a shadow of the day

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chicks, pants, showing it all, dancing
From Sin.

I feel safer with the wind in my sails and the water beneath my feet. There is nothing that can hurt me, nothing that can stop me. There is just the wind and the water and the sky around me. There are no worries. Just wind and water and sky open before me like every opportunity is laid at my feet.

My mother tells me I was born on the water. She tells me that I was born for the water, with sea water in my veins. She says to me—sometimes, when the lights are low and I am sitting at her feet like I used to do when I was little and did not know anything except that I loved my mother—she says to me that when I was inside her, she could feel me swimming. And when I was born, she says I came out doing the backstroke. She says I was made for the water.

My father signed me up for swimming lessons when I was 3 years old. His son was going to be a champion swimmer, a seaimpín snámhóir before he left nursery school. I wanted nothing more than to please my father. I wanted to show him that I could be what he wanted me to be.

For a while, I was. I have trophies on the wall at home, ribbons and plaques showing my achievements. Swim team. High dive. Captain of the rowing team. Water polo. His son, the athlete. His son, the achiever. His son, someone to be proud of and to tell others about.

I never felt more at home than with the wind in my sails and the sky open before me and the water beneath my deck boards. I can feel the power there, the unrestrained wildness of wind blowing off the North Channel pushing me towards shore. I can feel the strength in the waves and the way I have to submit and subdue to the forces of nature. It is something that I can understand and that humbles me in the sight of it all.

My father does not understand why I prefer sailing to rowing. He says a man should tame the elements around him until he has harnessed it and controls it. The power of a man’s hands, cutting through with sheer endurance... that is what defines a man. Where is the progress and power in sailing? They built motorboats to move without the wind and against the water.

I just nod and think of the freedom of open water, the time spent staring at empty sky until my eyes felt like they were burnt out of the sockets. I remember how the water cradled me and brought me back home, crashing me against the shore when I had no power left in me to do it myself.

I nod and tell my father that he must be right. I do not tell him about the day when he nearly lost his son to the wild water and wind that I now love so much. I do not tell him about the day where I nearly lost my life and the water and wind were kind to me and allowed me to return to them a changed boy. A changed man. He would not understand.

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i want to know the story behind that.

so do i.

cause it wasn't there until i finished the story.

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