It’s really easy to forget how poetic the sea can be when you live in a city where you don’t have access to it. You had convinced yourself it’s all overrated, but the sight of it still gets you in a peaceful state you didn’t quite know you missed.
You went to the beach. It was hot and sunny, way more than you’re used to. You watched everyone quietly, sitting on a cheap beach chair, pretending to read a book. It’s less creepy when you don’t just stare, you’ve learned.
Everything flowed in the right rhythm. A sweet-looking man sold balloons, kids swam innocently, certain that the ocean couldn’t hurt them, and parents frenetically reminded them that it could. You watched, the chair getting more and more uncomfortable as the urge to write about everything you saw got stronger.
To your right, a few smiley children played a game of I’ll-Throw-The-Ball-At-You-And-You’ll-Catch-It in the sand. The sea always won, but they didn’t seem to bother. Ah, the sea. A large amount of water filled with salt, animals, plants and things that make you question whether you should actually be swimming in there. Our origin and fate, past and future.
The waves were really high and dangerous, so, once out of the chair and enjoying the big salty public pool, you got to do a lot of thinking trying to avoid drowning. The ocean feels like it has its own will, doesn’t it? It throws you angrily towards the sand, like it wants you out . Then, it pulls you back in, like it regretted its decision, only for a bigger wave to come and push you away again. It just can’t get enough of your misery. Every wave feels like the biggest and every breath you take before it hits you feels like the last. Perhaps a pessimistic point of view, but the one you like. A thing that hurts, tortures, and kills you, but you just keep coming back for more.
Ah, the sea.
Sofia Souza is a 14-year-old Brazilian girl who wishes to one day make it as a writer. She has never had any of her work published and really likes looking at the sky.