Drifting With the Tides

Chapter One

Water is my element; its cools me, it warms me, it relaxes me; it's my essence and my weapon. I manoeuvre water at will like a tailor does fabric. I build it and dissolve it, and I can summon it from my body.

Like water, I'm flexible. I can mold myself to different situations and people. Loved by all and hated by few. Looked down upon and praised. I'm not perfect, and I can't pretend to be. I do my best as a person without a heart, but I remember what it was like so vividly that it's almost like I never lost my heart at all.

Due to my element, I'm a romantic, and my soul was born melodious. I love music, I love to listen to it and I love to make it. My general audience knows that my preferred instrument is my sitar.

I'm not good with words unless they're in lyrics, and I'm not good with emotions unless it's through notes. I express myself with rhythm and rhyme better than verbally.

Water is a difficult element. Depending on where it's found, it can be tranquil and alluring or dangerous and deadly. As such, my personality reflects that certain characteristic. I'm as pleasant as a bubbling stream on a sunny summer day or I'm as foul as a brutal storm on the black sea.

I'm not a fighter mind you; I much prefer pacifism, but I'm forced to do what I hate due to my position.

I'm not the kind of person who is easy to read, but I read others with ease. I attribute this also to my element. Water can mold itself so well that it understands the complex structures around it. Water is part of ninety percent of our planet, if not more. Due to this, I can see beyond the surface; in depths where few dare to tread, and few do it willingly. Ignorance is bliss, as the old saying goes, and that quote is pronounced rightly. The more I've come to understand, the less the world has impassioned me because I know what I will find under so many masks. There's not much to learn once you've uncovered a few personalities. Each person hides something great and dark in their hearts. This darkness spreads wherever it touches, and thus it has managed to taint my own soul. However, it will never consume me. It may inevitably influence me, but it will never take me. What I see I only keep to understand, and once it is understood, I put it away for when I might need it in the future. As a reference you might say.

But then there are times when you find a mask that isn't nearly as easily understood as the others. These personalities intrigue me and despite my reluctance, my curiosity is always stronger. The personality that I have yet to understand resides within the same walls I abide in. We are team mates, friends, but I still can't see beyond what he pretends to be, or maybe it's because he doesn't pretend. He is what I see and he hides nothing, but there is still so much to know. I know it goes deeper than what I already see… I can feel it, and I've learned to trust my instinct. It's never wrong.

This person has a flaring temper that is not easily assuaged. His eyes burn into me no matter what mood he displays. It's as though every word he says is pronounced with passion and feeling, as though every move is deliberate and purposeful. Heat radiates from him in waves; I can't see through his walls because there is too much to see in just a glance. He speaks little of himself and prefers to joke or rage. He has many layers yet to explore, and this idea excites me. I don't understand why I'm so entertained by the notion, by now I should be scarred from all the madness I've uncovered, but he's just such a puzzle to me… I'm attracted to his mystery more so than any other in the past. He hasn't realized this, of course, he is as observant as a broken sitar string is useful. He is intelligent, but his insight leaves something to be desired, and yet… Here I am wondering about him; questioning the motives and passion behind his every action.

He is ever weeping, this young man. He has tattooed tear drops under each eye. In prison this signifies that the person has killed someone if tattooed under the left eye, but he has one under each. I suspect that these tears have a deep significance for my companion. I don't have a clue as to what yet, but I will find out. Like the ocean crashes over and over against the rocks, I shall persevere and ware away his walls. I don't expect this to be easy on any account. Already I've watched him for too long and discovered nothing new, and I suspect that only observing won't be enough. I need to make direct contact with him in order to slowly relax his guard. I plan to sooth him with my languid rhythm and rhyme. I shall reach deep into his soul like no other has before, and hopefully, he will not reject me; if the latter does happen… Well, I'll cross that bridge when I get there.

This mission is dangerous in the sense that I'm approaching my natural enemy. Fire and water are two elements that mix with difficulty. Despite that, we are friends. The question I pose is whether I dare to go deeper? His depths are like a volcano's, and should I not tread cautiously, this volcano might explode.

As I reflect upon this, I realize that I want him to explode. I want him to burn me. I want him to kill me. Only then will I learn his inner secrets that I have had so little success discovering.

I lay back and strum distractedly at the strings tied tight over my sitar. My emotional flurry is draining, and my mind settles into a passive rhythm of calm. What used to be swirling hues of oranges, reds, blacks and yellows have faded into tranquil blue depths. I know my plan, and I know where to start. My hypothesis is that I'll come out victorious, but even scientists can be wrong, which makes my hypothesis all the more risky.

But I've already decided. I will go through with my plan, and I will do my best to succeed. Further thought is unnecessary in this position. I cannot attempt to predict my subject's reactions when I only know the surface. So I will not attempt to be overly strategic in my method. Like water, I'll just drift with the tides.