Chapter 1: The Weight of the Abyss

For what seems like an eternity, I have been fighting against the relentless waves. Time has lost all meaning; all I can feel is the sting of saltwater in my eyes and throat as the tumultuous surf continues to crash over me. Panic has faded into the background, replaced by a haunting numbness. Yet, even in this desolation, two words echo in my mind: tired, cold.

I recall the ship and the storm that changed everything. I vividly remember the moment I noticed water seeping into the lower decks, the cacophony of voices rising in alarm around me. Amid the chaos, I felt detached, moving on autopilot through instinctual routines while ignoring the sounds of destruction surrounding me. To an outsider, I may have appeared calm and collected, but in reality, I was merely masking the terror and despair brewing within.

As the vessel continued to sink, the pace of events quickened. Eventually, I had to abandon my attempts to assist others and leap into the unknown.

Suspended in the air, I gasped. The sensation was akin to the exhilarating drop of a rollercoaster or the disquieting stillness of an anxiety attack. In that fleeting moment, I absorbed the scene around me.

Suddenly, the chilling grip of reality crashed down. The coldness enveloped me; gravity asserted its dominance; the waves dragged me deeper than I thought possible. My boat may be lost, but the struggle is far from over. My sense of stability has vanished, yet I find myself under immense pressure. I am not merely working for a paycheck; I am fighting for survival. For now, my head remains above water, but I feel as if I am already sinking.

I long for escape. I wish for a fresh start. I crave freedom.

What could I have done differently? How could I have been more prepared? How much precious time slipped away that could have been spent productively or with loved ones?

But there’s no time for reflection now—emails, meetings, deadlines loom large, while bills mount and income dwindles. Responsibilities weigh heavily on my shoulders. I am always treading water, barely keeping my head above the surface.

Sometimes, I yearn for just a moment to float and catch my breath, yet the waves are unrelenting. The currents twist and turn unexpectedly, snuffing out any semblance of stability or sanity. Just when I think I am finding my footing, another wave crashes over me, filling my lungs with salty despair and dragging me back down.

I am in deep water—there's no other way to put it.

Overwhelmed, I strive to rise above the chaos, gasping for air, desperately seeking a moment of reprieve. Whenever I do find a fleeting moment of calm, I cling to it fiercely, trying to amplify it within my mind. Yet, that moment is swiftly shattered by yet another wave.

How does one avoid drowning? It’s quite straightforward: I can cling to hope for rescue, chance upon the shore, or perish in the attempt.

Is anyone searching for me? Does anyone realize my struggle?

Am I anywhere near land? How far have I drifted? Are the currents drawing me away from safety or guiding me toward it?

If I were to succumb, would anyone remember me? Would my legacy endure beyond the initial sorrow and grief? Would there even be a funeral? Does any of it truly matter?

I can’t dwell on that now. I must retreat into numbness and keep fighting.

Perhaps this marks the end. Or maybe it signals a new beginning.

The first video, DROWNING LIFE - PRIMAL INTENT (2023) | OFFICIAL BEATDOWN MUSIC VIDEO, captures the essence of feeling overwhelmed and fighting against life's challenges through powerful visuals and intense music.

The second video, Two Feet - I Feel Like I'm Drowning, reflects the emotional struggle of feeling lost and seeking solace amid the chaos of life.