Waves

If everyones' life could be compared to something, I think mine could be compared to a wave; a wave that continuously beats against the shore. In many ways my existance is as measured as a wave, consistently moving forward and then pulling back. Yet such a seemingly uncontrolled movement is restricted by the drift lines, or boundaries I set for myself. Wittingly or unconsciously, under normal conditions, it is unlikely that I will cross this zone of content. As I remain in this mode, there is this bugging feeling that impending storm will come; a storm that will surge me past the driftline into some foreign place. And yet with the removal of the storm, an equilibrium is quickly restored, where I once again beat upon the shore with a predictable rhythm