BY indefiniteloop

“He walked this world before I did. He wrote his words, etching secrets about the lands, and the seas with his beloved inks. He spoke of the stars, the moons, and the emptiness that exists around them with a jolly voice that was filled with laughter; it echoed through that empty void, burning through it as it tried to reach out further, reach out to the other end. He knew there wasn’t an end to depths here, he knew there were no beginnings that he could comprehend. He left everything to the wind, letting her catch his sails. He never feared distances, and knew very well their temporary temptations. All he carried with himself was an anchor that had become rusty; he knew it was starting to hollow out, and may very well disappear, but he never let that stop him from searching. Oh yes, he was searching wherever he went. He was ever searching for his ship; the one which the anchor belonged to. He knew time was running out, but he also accepted the fact that time was a feeble, finite construct, and it only held meaning if he appointed any to Time - that, and the fact that he was happy being a vagabond. He knew he was indefinite, and also knew that his existence amounted less than the sands he stepped upon, less than compared to what was abound, all around him. Maybe that’s why he always got lost, and got lured by those shining lights. He never said no to adventures of any kind, thinking that maybe he would run into his ship on one of them. Thus he traveled paths known, and unknown. Thus he made paths of his own. When I arrived, I wanted to follow in his footsteps - desperately follow wherever they led. But, I guess he knew that whatever footsteps he’d leave behind, they would be trampled on by the wind. He was happier to have her erase them, always believing that I should find my own anchor, and then head out to search for my own ship. Everything’s changes, but the wind remains the same. Now I know, I have to leave my own footprints for her to erase; I have to set sail. I want to set sail. “ -

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