Sometimes, I See Myself As One With The Ocean. I Think It's Foolish, I Think It's Selfish, I Think It's

sometimes, i see myself as one with the ocean. i think it's foolish, i think it's selfish, i think it's outlandish for a human being to even think about comparing themselves to a celestial being as inexplicable as the sea. i think, i've spent too much time with myself tonight, how can i compare myself to the ocean when i don't understand myself? comparisons deserve explanations, they deserve examples, they should have a structure, but when has the ocean had any of this? you see, the ocean has zones. the sunlight zone, the twilight zone, the midnight zone, the abyssal zone, and the hadal zone. the deeper we dive, the less we see. in fact, we can't even dive that deep. even then, most creatures are not capable of surviving in water that deep as the water pressure is incomprehensible, so it's mostly empty. i think about this and i think, oh, that is me. the deeper you get, the harder it is to hold people in, the harder it is that i don't destroy them within milliseconds. the deeper it is, the more mystery there lies, when in reality, the mystery is just emptiness. it's that incomprehensible feeling of utter emptiness that surrounds your stomach and makes it ache in ways that cannot be shown to other people so you surround it with the pressure that can crush people and creatures that are see-through and weirdly surviving because trauma can be repressed but some part of it aches to to be remembered and perceived like some sort of fish that looks like a blob or a megalodon that is a folktale. it doesn't matter. the ocean doesn't want you to explore its depths, if it did, it wouldn't have made it impossible to survive down there if you're not its secret little creatures. the ocean wants you to stay out, i want you to stay out