Every onomatopoeia just punched me in the stomach.
I could lay on the sand and let the ocean claim me for it's own. I could roll with the waves, losing more and more breath with every crash made against the sand. Eventually, I could float out to see and disappear in the seemingly endless depths of the ocean. At the bottom of the ocean, I would lay peacefully watching the underwater world go about their business. I would be ineffectual. I would be insignificant. I would be gone.
2 Comments, Questions, and Concerns:
What's in a name?
That which we call a rose,
By any other word would smell as sweet.
Those that are named have power, because we have given them a name;
if they have their own names they have their own power; maybe they should all be called by the same name, make them share power.
With a name does not come power.
You are only as powerful as the people around you allow you to be.
Names are irrelevant because "that which we call a rose/By any other would smell as sweet."
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