Monday, March 21, 2011

PeePee Water

(Man Giving A Conquering Pose in Central Park While Wifey Figure Takes His Photograph, 2010)

As a kid I wasn't necessarily afraid of the ocean, nor swimming, or snorkeling, it was the fact there were these jellyfish-like creatures anchored to the ocean floor and there was only a few feet that separated me from them. We were vacationing to Florida, my mother who was big on scuba had taken her family to Aquarius, one of the first underwater sealabs, and one of the features of this attraction was they let you snorkel here, renting out masks and snorkels. The whole family had their gear on, and I couldn't not get in, I just looked at those jellyfish things, with their pulsating bodies jetting water as if they were digging themselves deeper. My flipper foot would not touch water again for years, in fact, it would well over a decade later I put a snorkel on and nervously float/hover over spiky and stringy creatures. After I got used to the whole thing my only fear remained that someone was going to come up to me when I finally found a place to pee.

I've only gone that one time, and perhaps that might be it for me, as far as I can tell. I dreamed to scuba driving but an early childhood nightmare of dying from the bends still plagues the deep regions of my subconscious. I love the ocean, I want to be near it, in it, around it, and above it. I miss the salt in my hair, the buoyancy it gives my body, how I float perfectly, like my body was a carrot in a salty soap just before boiling point.

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