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Jun 13, 2010
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H 2 O LY
A lost little fish awoke in a mysterious sea. He swam it's waters, he drank it's waters. he learned it's waters well. He could flip and flop with the greatest of ease; amazingly acrobatic and bold.
"If I could drink", he'd come to think, "the whole of the sea, would I become the sea, and the sea become me?"
But he doubted that he could drink even half this muddy puddle of sludge before gagging, gasping. grasping for time; and never getting to know what it was that he had been seeking all along.
He contemplated giving up his quest to know.. to really KNOW; and then he remembered.
He once heard tell of a strange "flying fish" that did, in fact, arise from these same murk and mercurial waters.
He is still a lost little fish, but his quest continues.
"If I could drink", he'd come to think, "the whole of the sea, would I become the sea, and the sea become me?"
But he doubted that he could drink even half this muddy puddle of sludge before gagging, gasping. grasping for time; and never getting to know what it was that he had been seeking all along.
He contemplated giving up his quest to know.. to really KNOW; and then he remembered.
He once heard tell of a strange "flying fish" that did, in fact, arise from these same murk and mercurial waters.
He is still a lost little fish, but his quest continues.
— brittle light, Jun 13, 2010
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