An Oceanic Life

Note: Paul Stephen Michael and Andrew are my brothers.

We are all drowning in the vast ocean of life. To our right and to our left are tiny islands of sanctuary, but if we swim over to them, there's no way of getting back home. If we try to swim backwards, we'll find nothing because the past only exists in our memories; we'll eventually drown. In front of us is our home, but there are rocks and sharks blocking our way, and the water pulls harder at our legs the further we advance, trying to trip us. Some of us will find refuge on the islands and make friends with the noble savages inhabiting them. Some of us will spend their lives looking and trying to swim back the way we came, but they'll find nothing out there and eventually drown if they don't bring anything to keep them afloat. The only people with even a hope of reaching home are those who swim ahead, but not all of them will make it either. Some will be savaged by the sharks or battered to death against the harsh glass rocks of reality; some may lose heart or strength and be sucked below the water by the treacherous undercurrent. Only the strongest and most determined, or at least the ones with the most friends, will make it to the shore; to the future; trend-following; celebrity-watching; pencil-pushing; whatever you choose to call it. But why do we need to get home anyway? They may not have gotten to our "real" home, but those on the islands have certainly found a place which they can call by the same name. They may have been lost in the ocean, but those people's foreshortened lives were full of the joy which they derived from doing and experiencing what they loved. Those who made it to the future's shore get up and resume their daily lives; unsure of who they really are, following whatever new trend or celebrity their neighbors are following. I'm one of those who look to the past for refuge. Andrew and Michael have made themseles beautiful little shacks on their quaint islands of that odd genertion of people; those sub-culturists; those post-rock and roll rockstars. Paul bides his time in college, still unsure of where to swim, and unable to, since he only knows the breast stroke. Stephen is readying his diving equipment and preparing to hurl himself into the water with all his might, only to lose momentum a few seconds later because of his incredible amount of laziness and be sucked under the water like a mouse in a toilet bowl by the swirling undercurrents of everyday life.