The Young Man and the Land

"Why is almost every robust healthy boy with a robust healthy soul in him, at some time or other crazy to go to sea? Why upon your first voyage as a passenger, did you yourself feel such a mystical vibration, when first told that you and your ship were now out of sight of land? Why did the old Persians hold the sea holy? Why did the Greeks give it a separate deity, and own brother of Jove? Surely all this is not without meaning. And still deeper the meaning of that story of Narcissus, who because he could not grasp the tormenting, mild image he saw in the fountain, plunged into it and was drowned. But that same image, we ourselves see in all rivers and oceans. It is the im- age of the ungraspable phantom of life; and this is the keyto it all."

—Moby Dick by Herman Melville

When I was a kid, I would so often day-dream of sailing out into open sea. Every so often, I laid entranced over the idea of living off of the sea. I dreamt of sailing, and fishing, and docking into ports to sell and trade my goods. I would also dream of piracy, of adventures at sea, sea-creature hunting.

Every now and then the dreams would mix up with my plane of reality and characters off of my own world would break away the wall and step into open sea.

These day dreams, where my peers were part of those fantasies, seemed the most gruesome in retrospect. I would imagine my bullies in the face of whales I'd shoot harpoons at just to let floating at sea to rot. My best friends would often suffer of scurvy, and I would have to put them down every time.

In H.P. Lovecraft's "The Temple" the crew of a German U-boat loses their minds after finding a strange object made of carved ivory belonging to the corpse of a man at sea. Their minds begin to be led astray after an oceanic current drags the submarine around, stranding them at sea and having them deal with exhaustion and a whole lot of nightmares.

In my day dreams, I would entertain the idea that I was that same captain. I saw my school mates turn mad within German U-boats, planning a mutiny. I would imagine losing every single one of them along the way until finding underwater cities where a more intelligent civilization would greet me and take me into their collective arms.

Be it a cruel fantasy or a mere adventure, my day dreams all shared a common factor: I would escape to the sea.

I had an immense sense of not belonging at home, school, and within my community. As such, my mind would raise my anchors and sail away. I internalized and romanticized the notion that running away (or sailing away) would rid me of the lack of belonging.

At sea, I would meet people who would love to hear about that fun fact I so eagerly sought to share.

At sea, I would be able to release my frustrations towards the misunderstanding of social cues, and would not be scolded for caring more about my bloody knuckles than my stupid "friend's" bloody nose.

I admit I was more than a tad condescending growing up, and I often believed myself to be superior to everyone else.

Where I ever got this notion from remains a mystery to me, considering at home they always made sure to note my inability to be like everyone else.

My mother made sure to note how incredible it was to be as dense and void of wit as I was; my friends always slapped the back of my head for missing out on the jokes being told; my teachers often kicked me out the classroom for missing out on social ques and not being prudent enough —as if being kicked out of a room to learn would ever serve one to learn a thing.

My siblings and father were a bit more understanding, though would lose their patience every now and then. They poke fun at my "stupidity", but never without explaining to me where I had missed the point. They allowed me to learn from my mistakes and laugh at myself alongside them.

During these times, where they laughed at me while I laughed with them, where I felt I belonged in the most. I was part of this little piece of laughter, a shared joy. This, by itself, would often make me never want to leave.

The feeling never quite escaped my body, though. To this day, when I feel overwhelmed, I day dream of sailing away.

I dream of sailing away and living off the sea. In this dream, a storm drifts my ship away and I die at sea.

I dream of sailing off, being hit by a storm. Instead of drowning though, I sink into a dome of jelly containing an ancient civilization long sunken. I float to the center of a plaza where the leader of an ancient Aztec tribe greets me. They had observed my life thus far and had waited for my arrival at this city of direct conversations.

I dream of being away, and am often pulled back by the strings of laughter.

I don't think I am or have ever been in a position to claim I can discern what the true meaning of happiness is.

Whatever the meaning may be, those briefs moments of respite provide me with enough respite to stay around.

With strings of love and laughter I remain tied to these docks made of connections and shared ideals.

I am anchored into this island to love and be loved.

To laugh, be laughed at, and to laugh at said laughter.