The surface is loud.
A relentless storm of demands, noise, and blinding light.
As you sink, the roar of the waves becomes a gentle hum.
You are leaving the familiar behind. It feels like falling...
But you are not crashing. You are drifting.
The light from above shatters into fragmented rays, then slowly fades.
We are taught to fear the dark. To panic at the loss of sight.
But let your eyes adjust.
The darkness is not empty. It is a canvas.
When the external light fails, the deep creates its own.
The things that survive down here glow from within.
The water grows heavy. The pressure is immense.
Do not fight it.
It is not here to crush you. It is here to squeeze away everything that is not you.
You are stripped down to your core.
A single, enduring spark, navigating the silent void.
Up above, they are terrified of this silence.
They mistake the quiet for emptiness.
They fight the descent, afraid of being alone.
But isolation is not the same as solitude.
Here, beneath the weight of the world, the noise cannot reach you.
There is only peace. You are finally still.