Currents envelope me with the strength mustered within the tides of the deep blue, seemingly neverending. I fight, strength of the water overcoming my own, freedom ringing in my ears like the pounding of drums. The drums that foretell my future, my past, my now. Boom, boom, boom. My heart plays along, faster and faster in almost rhythmic motions that can save me from this drowning state, drowning in my own self. But not quite yet. Not until I can break free of the waves crashing above my head, smothering the words left unsaid, shoved back through my open lips, a rejected sentence. Not until I can climb up to the rocks, to breathe the fresh air, to push it through my lungs, to feel like I am living. Not until I can save my own self, save my own emotions from overflowing, as they are now, and revent them from pouring into every space around me and drowning me until I am no longer really there, for you cannot live by just breathing. Not until I can get a grip on myself, to be able to see past the surface, to go past just what is the obvious. Not until I can let go of what isn't really there. Then, and only then, will the drumbeat of life pull me forwards. Then, and only then, will it continue in a rhythmatic sway. Then, and only then, I can survive.