I crave the touch of water. I long to leap in and feel the cold shock to my eyelids. I want to linger beneath the surface, until my fingers prune and the bubbles dance like sugar plums around me. I’m convinced I was a storm-chaser in the last life. The fear of rain, wind, thunder or lightning has never darkened the doors of my brain, only decorated the walls. I find solace in the shower, eventually shivering when the chill seeps into my bones. I’d choose cascading waterfalls over the vast ocean, a chlorine filled pool over a serene lake. What’s the point of a boat if one does not dare to jump overboard? I have hoped drowning is the way I go. Almost embraced in the womb again. Fully touched but not harmed. I want to be aquatic life and stay in the safeness of humanities’ most unknown. Hide in the dark forgotten unfound caves where silence sings and the water whispers my name.