Here I am, out here. On my boat. I'm not sure what time it is. Where I am, is even a mystery. I'm surrounded by nothing but the sprawling sea. The sounds of my sail keep me some comfort. This ocean is so massive. My eyes strain looking for something, anything. I scan the horizon, but all I see is ocean. Some days I sit on the deck and throw things into the ocean, and watch as the water swallows it whole. Why did I push myself out here? Why hop in this blasted rotten coffin and set sail? Was it my idea? Perhaps. Sometimes I take the sail off, defeated. Whats the point? I'm not heading in any particular direction. Why go faster to nowhere? Perhaps I set sail to prove something to myself. Maybe I am vain. I am no captain. I am no explorer. I'm a prisoner stuck in an ever growing prison. Sometimes, I dip my feet in the water. It's cold. Unforgiving. I kick the water and watch as this painful liquid shoots about. The chill of it could subdue anything. Sometimes, I think of throwing myself into the ocean. Kicking my feet, swimming to nothing. Letting the cold envelop me. My fight only stopping when my body does. At times, I sit out on my boat at night. I take my sail down and wrap myself with it for warmth. I watch the stars. Oh, the stars. They expand just as the sea does. All stretched above me. No light pollution perverting the beauty of it.  Perhaps, that's why I came out here. To have a few hours of the majesty of a moment. A fleeting moment. How vain of me.