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The Beauty of Buoyancy
Drowning. The sea above me. My breath left and I'm slowly swept in the tides that pull me. The rock of sorrow bound tightly around me. I descend into the deep, tumbling where light is bleakly aware of my heartbeat. I'm still ... a weight in the abyss of gravity's greatest density and while the magnitude of the earth rolls slowly against the burning stars of infinity, the beauty of buoyancy brushes against me.
I'm beginning; I'm transcending the heavy, the feelings of social accord that buried my transparency. I'm now floating, rolling up the same currents that carried me beneath.
I'm surfacing. I'm living.
I'm rising in a world of balancing, contending the laws of nature's concinnity, I'm shattering, disbelieving the truth of fables that ruled me. I'm here; I'm swimming through rings of waves that can't be seen, not by eyes born of visual captivity as it is the reciprocity of life that can only be felt by completely surrendering the awareness of your very being.
All words and photographs by Chet Tucker