The Self

The self. It is incongruent. Always fickle as the ocean currents.

The flow of the sea against the land that never seems to end. How it moulds the earth that it can move and passes by hardy obstacles of stone that refuse to break. So too the strength of flexibility exists in the self. It changes and manipulates the world around it as best it can. But when a monumental task beyond its ability comes to bear, it will be forced to change its direction and style of play. The self will change.

It's dainty gait through great distances in seemingly untiring consistency has lasted through generations. The ocean waters never seem to rest. The tides wait for none. And just like the eternally rolling seas, the self is constantly changing and moving, unrelenting till the end.

The surface of a person's easily seen and understood; As easily explored as the face of the sea. But behind the mask is close to always a depth as unending as the ocean's secrets.

The heart of the self is as difficult to find as the ocean's true nature. Just as mysterious.