Eyes open. I find myself in water, cool, yet not chilling. I have no memory, no recollection, yet as the water begins to flow, ripples dance around my body. Light reflects upon the surface, splaying colors that do not exist upon the cliffs' walls that tower up, up higher than the heavens. A river otter floats in the water next to me, playfully and mischievously luring me down the stream I have somehow swam up, mindlessly to my death like salmon swimming to their birthplace. This otter is familiar to me, a guide that I don't understand. A chase I give, for the otter intrigues me, though I know I won't catch it; though never a torment. I am but a dog chasing a car, aware that it can't be caught and if it were caught, nothing could be done with it. The otter disappears without warning, and I am confused. Waves swelling about give distinction of the ocean, heavy with breath and power, exercising it's force of will, and hiding the world behind it's waves. Yet there is no violence to this sea, it is too deep and too old to waste such emotion on a lost soul. Instead it provides a ship, for those lost within it's waters. The ship, built upon rumour and whisper, houses a crew in search of land. Our travels always take us close, yet the shores, littered with rocks, call like sirens of old. The sweet sound of waves upon the shore, beacon to a weary soul, promise to an end of the swells of an unpredictable sea. But upon swimming, only sharp rocks and scars are received. I climb aboard the ship, the sweet smell of incense lightens my soul. Once again, colors float through air, and the taste of music is about. As we sail, we drift towards fog, for though we cannot see around, the water is still. A secret grotto within which bonds grow before we attempt another journey. I find that from my hands, emotions flow forth. Designs displaying beauty, snake about the ship, leaving wonder and awe to those we find within the fog. Yet, the color, the sound, the taste, that leaves my hands to be displayed leave pain within the body. I feel I must leave the ship, as I look out upon the sea. Once again, the otter, my mischievous friend looks back at me from the water, beaconing to greater things. I jump from the edge, into the water. Plunging deep into the water, darkness around. But there is no foreboding, no creeping. Just the dark. I take a breath, ready to feel the water rush into my lungs; only to find I never made it into water. I look about to find that I am on a island. There is grass, cool and soft, caressing my skin as I lay back and the fog clears. A beautiful sound slowly emanates from a small fissure in a lone rock. Curiously, I stride towards the sound, it appeals to me more than any other sound, and as I reach the rock I notice two eyes staring back at me. They are deep and beautiful, calming and understanding. They belong to a silhouette of a person that I do not know, yet somehow I do. I follow within the fissure, at which we happen upon a mirror. Standing side by side with these eyes, this silhouette, and this music I feel peace. My reflection shows a better me, that I strive for. The mirror shows myself now moving differently as I do, and my reflection and the silhouette turn and leave, the eyes close and darkness falls. A crack between my feet opens and I fall down into the abyss. The walls of the cliffs, sharp as knives cut my sides as I fall as if from the heavens. And I am in a river once again, and the otter is once again at my side leading me to the ocean. I awake to find myself once again aboard the ship, deep in the calming fog, breathing in the sweet smell of flowers and incense, calming my tattered soul. But now memories flood my mind, and I eat to try and find comfort. My world changes before my eyes, I feel no pain as beauty flies from my fingertips, yet this is not real. Shapes bloom forth and twist and twirl as though a glass blower were working in symphony, while deep droning bass notes beat a rhythm within my heart. Figures from my past rise up: a Maenad, innocently twirling the bones of a conquest. An angel, lost yet divine. And a saint, who lives up to the title. My bruised body stumbles forward, tripping upon rough ground; only able to be picked up by the angel and then guided to the saint. Yet I ignore them, for I am intrigued by this Maenad, a figure sweet and innocent. But I find that a Maenad unfortunately feigns love, only to sacrifice the heart of their victim for their own sick pleasure. I scream, as my rib cage is torn open and my heart is removed, ripped from the body. I collapse face first onto the floor, but find that I have instead landed upon the otter's body, saving my head from hitting sharp rocks. I black out. I awake as I am pulled from the water, not remembering why I lie facedown in the ocean. But when thrown onto my back, I find myself once again upon the ship, with it's crew around a small fire. We sit, enjoying the calm within the fog. I feel empty within, and I wonder if it's all been a dream, or perhaps it was real, or just a manifestation of something I don't understand. A happy dog wanders to my side and lays it's head against my torso. Warmth from a body that I haven't felt, creeping like the warmth of a hard drink as it slides down your throat. Perhaps, it was a dream. I can still feel. Then the dog walks away, and I am saddened, but I understand that the dog was never mine really so I couldn't be upset, but a friendly companion that I wouldn't forget. And a smile appears, fleeting, but present nonetheless. Our ship sails ever forward, through storms and sun. Though we keep near the shore, and seek refuge in fog when we find it. We are lost, drifting near the same places we have been before, though they never look the same. Our crew disappears without warning, yet we find them again in the waters near the fog, cold and tired, seeking refuge upon appearance. But on clear nights, the world can still be seen. Clearer than the purest waters from heaven. Razor sharp cliffs, black as hell with a cold stream flowing forth. Beautiful steely eyes, reflecting what I believe I understand. Sirens singing from shore, as the waves crash upon hard stones. And an otter that appears, always to show me back to the ocean. One day perhaps, this ship will make berth in it's harbor. For now it wanders the foggy ocean, providing for those lost within it's waters a solid place to stand, even if it isn't land.