Lost.

On Wednesdays, when our computer is still out of commission, we post fiction from the drafts files (although it's actually more of a paragraph of thought) and hope our readers don't judge us too harshly :) It hasn't be edited, and it also hasn't been looked at since it was jotted down in a haze of confusion on a post it sometime last fall. We hope to have the computer fixed by tomorrow, but in the spirit of consistency, we present a post dug from the archives of 2013. I'll stop using the enigmatic 'we' now, we think's it's creepy.

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It kinda felt like drowning. Like being held under water, but no one was holding you. You can see the surface, and the calm of the water after the crash of each wave beckons you, dares you even, to break through. Just beneath the surface of the water, you can feel the sunlight on your face if you tilt your chin towards it. It warms you as you float within the cool ocean waters. Even though you feel the warmth of possibility, even though you see the opportunity, even though no one is holding you back, you don't reach, you don't even try. You allow the depth of the ocean floor to pull you down deeper. You let the passing of each second become an opportunity lost. You see it happening, in fact, you watch it. You are powerless against it. Yet, who but you could ever have the power to remove the invisible weight you've placed upon yourself? No one's coming to rescue the girl who doesn't want to be saved.