Aquamancer

Aquamancer

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The one constant with water is movement.

It falls from the skies to the mountains, to the rivers and the oceans. Twisting, turning, ebbing and flowing. It follows the motions of the winds and the turning of the moons. Rising with the sun and falling with the shade. Moving, free-flowing kinetic change in motion.

The average adult human body is composed of approximately 65% water contained within the tissue, the blood, the bones and elsewhere. It is this motion that I feel pulsing through my bloodstream and through my heart, through every drop that moves through my pores and every breath that passes through my lungs. The water moves through my body without my conscious awareness, an automatic process of liquid in flux.

I can see the tension within every muscle, the pressure on every bone. I can see the fluids that circulate through the body of every man and woman that stands within my immediate radius, with every breath they take and every beat within their heart. They move and they talk and they are water in motion.

They are moving and I am not.

Stagnant water is an unnatural state of being. It provides a breeding ground for numerous forms of bacteria and insects to fester, for dirt and grime to accumulate. It is dangerous and contaminated and a massive environmental danger.

It is a messy and overcomplicated analogy, but it is a fitting one for my current situation.

I am dangerous. I am contaminated. The natural course of action would be for me to find a way for me to start moving again, for this stagnant water to flow, but I do not know how to move.

My mind is filled with repression and sublimation and a dozen other self-defense mechanisms that fills my head with lies that I pretend to be the truth. My thoughts are dissociated with my emotions, a meaningless jumble of guilt and lies and pictures and knowledge that stirs the biological mechanism that brings wet droplets to my eye.

The throat seizes up as a sound echoes through their lips. They are aware that they am sobbing, but they do not feel it. Why am they sobbing? Why am they crying? It is a meaningless response to a meaningless situation. The river within the mind threatens to move, but they hold it back.

"Is it wrong to love?" the first one ask. "Is it wrong to love, even when they don't love you back?"

But love is nothing but a parasite, the other face repeat, that has brought them nothing but pain and suffering. They could pretend for now, but not forever.

Only death could set the river free.