136.

This time we are swimming in a boundless sea. There are no waves, no sounds, no animals, no people. Just water everywhere we look. I cannot hear you any longer, perhaps because I silenced you, or you silenced me. What would be the difference? And I – we – are swimming day and night, not speaking, not seeing the shore behind us, not seeing the shore in front of us. Not once have we believed that we have seen a glimpse of land in front of us, a small island where we could rest and finally find our peace. But all our glimpses are mere illusions, and we keep on swimming, feeling the power of water on us, swimming, feeling how tired we are, telling us that we have to keep on going on for a minute, for an hour, for a month, until we reach that lost destination - that we barely remember which it is - , or a damn boat where we could breathe for a while, feeling all the time how the water pulls us down, wanting from the bottom of our soul to rest, only for just one brief second.