We are sailors on an intergalactic ocean, adrift on a rock hurtling through the void at 107,000 km/h, carried by the tides of space and time. We do not steer this vessel, nor can we slow its course.
And yet beyond the stars and the void, there is another ocean—one woven into the very fabric of existence. An ocean of life, shifting, folding, ever-changing beneath us. Its waves rise and fall with moments of joy and sorrow, its currents pulling us toward paths unknown.
We do not walk upon it, nor do we float above it. We set our sails to the winds of fate, navigating as best we can.
The ocean is vast, and though we may chart our course, the tides often have plans of their own. Some waters are calm and shimmering, inviting us to drift, to rest. Others rise in tempests, waves crashing against us, testing our resolve, forcing us to fight for every breath.
And always, there are others.
Fellow sailors, distant at first, appearing as faint silhouettes against the horizon. Some sail alongside us for a time, sharing stories, laughter, or silent understanding. Some change our course entirely, their presence a lighthouse guiding us to shores unknown.
Others, we meet only in passing—a brief exchange, a fleeting moment as our paths cross, then part again, each continuing their journey, forever carried by the same cosmic tides.
Some leave us too soon, disappearing into the mist before we are ready to say goodbye. And some, against all odds, remain beside us through calm and storm alike, their sails unfurled beside our own, companions in the great, endless voyage.
We cannot know where this ocean leads, nor how long we will sail these waters. But we press on—bound by the currents of life—through the vastness of space on this fragile rock. The winds shift, the tides turn, and still, we sail.
For as long as the stars burn and the cosmic ocean stretches beyond sight, we are but sailors on this drifting rock, carried forward, forever sailing.
