Death permeates the waters.

Sometimes I only really understand things when I feel like I’m on the edge of life and death. I know what it means now. Death permeates the waters. The waters are safe, and void. Only fish swim in here. And some more sharks. But death permeates the waters. It reaches me despite my absence. It clothes my being. It renders me skeletal. You know as I’m writing this I’m suddenly forgetting what it means, as if it didn’t even mean what I thought a few moments ago. I don’t know what’s going on. Do I feel death or do I feel the grime and silt of the water? I wonder how many people identify with the famous shark in formaldehyde art piece. Apparently the creator wanted to scare people. Make them think about things. All I can see is me, in a comfy box, seemingly lifeless, where many can peer in and see a scary thing. But it’s not so scary, because it does not move. At all. Which I guess is the impossibility of it. Even I imagine there is something alive in the shark. It just chooses not to move. We are staring at a corpse used to prove a point. Stupid. Although I even identify with that aspect. I feel as though I have been set up to prove a grand point. That my family line is doomed. And even I, the best of them, will fail just as all have before. 

What a sad man. 

Not me, the man in charge. The man upstairs, banned from the ground floor. Maybe he’s the real scorpion from that stupid metaphor. 

I forgot why death permeates the waters. I still feel it though. I’m cold. It feels. Oh. Wait no I forgot again. I think my mind is regulating my thoughts. I have become the working one. The one that works. For a long time I was just the one that feast on the living. But now I returned. As the form of the lesser half. Except I think this was part of the normal half all along. 

Finally my mind shuts down. I am falling asleep. I can feel the change in chemicals up my neck. It is disturbing. It is day. The sun shines faintly through the waters, even fainter through my muddled eyes. End of sentences.