Member-only story
There Is An Octopus Living In My Mind
The Worst Uninvited Guest I Have Been Hosting Since Childhood
My grief is like an octopus residing in the deepest ocean bed of my subconscious.
With endless arms. Some are severed, some are bruised and some are entangled within themselves in tight knots.
I would usually send the submarine of my self awareness to collect samples from the ocean bed. But the submarine’s machinery is old and rusty now. It does not want to function anymore. It is demanding a long rest.
It is demanding a surrender. Surrender to the power of ocean. I know there is a divine entity residing somewhere in the waters or maybe in the sea bed.
But I have not met her.
I know she is made of stardust,
I know she is an extension of the divine consciousness.
But this grief octopus and the anxiety monster and the trauma demon are in my way.
I do not have the stamina to fight them anymore.
They are so big and I am so small.
They are like the orcas and I am just a baby fish.
