Urla, Turkey. Summer 2009.

Depths are real. So real that they feel unreal. So real, that we feel they are untrue. Their reality is complex and complexity is not often the path we choose. We marginalize them. We ignore them, like nothing else.

We stand tall and admire the sea. We see the reflection of our existence on the waves and come to the conclusion that oceans were created for that purpose, to remind us that we’re alive. Their depths have no meaning. We ignore them, like nothing else.

Oceans are patient. They often forgive our shortsightedness. They wish some of us would look through the reflection of their own being and discover new worlds, for you don’t always need to fly to discover new lands. Their waves keep chanting poems inviting us to explore their intimacy. And we? We ignore them. We ignore them, like nothing else.

Oceans look at us differently. When they stare at us, they don’t look to reaffirm their own reality by contemplating themselves through our eyes, turning them into mere mirrors. They are so conscious of their own existence that its assertion through an entity, itself unsure of its own destiny seems futile. They ignore their own reflection. They ignore them, like we ignore their depths. They ignore them, like nothing else.

So what do oceans look at when they stare at us? If our eyes are not mere mirrors for them to comb their waves, what do they look at?

Depths. What we ignore in them, they cherish in us. For oceans, each one of us is a gateway towards a new discovery. They know that ‘within everyone of us is enfolded an entire universe’. They look through our eyes, and travel in our mind, for eyes are just a door that leads towards our fears and thoughts.

Depths. Our Depths are truly what oceans are after. Oceans are so thirsty to experience our thoughts, that they have left drops of their own existence in our eyes as tears. They parted with their own particles to keep our eyes moist and our vision intact. Sacrifice. This is what true love is about.

We start admiring blossoming flowers in the spring. Their perfection brings a tear in our eyes. As soon as this teardrop is formed, somewhere, in a distant land, waves start swaying in admiration. Sharing. This is what true love is about. We open our eyes, and oceans are those who experience colors. We breath, and they smell the fragrance. And when we finally close our eyes, it is them, who experience the absence of light.


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