I’m the Bastard Captain of a Sinking Ship

Have you ever been scared of some thing you thought you loved? I’m that way with ships at sea.   At their best they make you sublimely happy, rock you to sleep with their gentle lull, make your face rosy and bright with the time spent on deck and you think well isn’t this unique just you and the sea have the world beat.  Then there is a flip, a wave that could be an inch too high and everything just capsizes.   The haul of the ship that kept you a float out on glittering seas is now the very cage that traps you as the fridge water is tumbling in.    Don’t give up, rage against the dying of the light.  Batten down the hatches, ride with sea sickness into the night.  Numb and confused the world just won’t make sense; up is down and light is shades of gray.  No! If you abandon that ship you’ll make it worse.   See you get on because you trusted it to be sea worthy and with you as the noble captain how could this not be a pleasure cruise.  None of the Titanic passengers were like “fuck this beast is going fucking down!”   But ships are subject to the privy of the sea, and there would be no sunken ships if everything went according to plan.  The ocean is scattered with wrecks innumerable, survivor traumatized.   I would hazard a guest that once that ship goes down and you are left in the frozen water alone trying to simply survive it might be pretty lonely, and after the experience scars would form.  Alone at sea, ick.  It was your choice to get on the boat, but you just wanted a nice ride.   You checked with the weather man, and that Cunt told you that it’s was going to be sunny and clear.  But here you are hanging on to what is left of the floating debris, and you’re thinking “fuck, fuck, fuck, how did I not see this coming?”