I stare upon it, this vast ocean, this sea of potential..and it springs from ourselves, it pours out ahead of us. It surrounds us, this potential, these opportunities.
We are at times distorted by our cynicism, our constant disbelief as that not much unalike a shroud over our eyes that shows us little but misery. Hope in this lens is instead foolishness, and potential is little but treachery...and yet we worship our conceit in this denial of us.
There is a slope, a fine and short one between ourselves and that of the oblivion, the death before death. One which is founded on the motivation of fear, and the reward of arrogant selfishness. Existing in this way, we are swallowed beneath those ocean waves and are destined all too shortly to drown.
...There is a price to be paid for all things, and to us in keeping our heads afloat is the price of constant vigilance. The warm reminder this world is not yet wholly cold. We are destined for great things, but not at any point are we written in stone. Vigilance...be aware.