i am inside the river that flows throughout this holy and dirty land. it brings me to rich and exotic ports, foreign with eyes that look in from the outside. arms that hold me close and will never let me go, even if i ask nicely. i am shackled by my own desires and sentenced by my impatience. time is not a virtue it is a punishment. it turns fiction into fact and fantasy into minutes. i rebel against the red tide that is heading towards me, i will not let it break me as it swallows my shore. i will not let it carry me up and to heaven. i will keep my feet planted firmly in the sand.