There are days when I long for the sunshine of the California shore, long for the gently lapping waters of low tide as I walk the precipice of a beloved element and mortal enemy in one.

Water steadies the keel of my ship, sets my thoughts in a semblance of a coherent narrative.  I only wish that the narrative were more beautiful or positive.  For every joy, for every beacon of light, there is a looming darkness that foreshadows what always comes:  darkest night, and the chill that seeps into the marrow of my bones.

I am weary and sleepless, even when unconscious.  My mind roams, even when my body remains static.  I am, as with light, a particle and a wave.  But for all of my mind’s revelations, I am unremarkable in my inaction. I wonder how my parents felt, decades ago.  I wonder how much they chose to tolerate – and how much of it now poisons me from the inside, seeping into my veins as it once seeped into their own.

Blood is thicker than water.

Day 147:  If You Tolerate This, Your Children Will Be Next – Manic Street Preachers