Silent Inward Navigation

When I am awake, something within me remains alert, quietly holding my memories together, keeping the past from dissolving. It gives weight, direction, and a sense of being someone. But when sleep comes, that presence withdraws, and I become a small boat loosened from its anchor. The ocean is vast and without edges. There is no will, no intention, no hand to guide the movement. The boat drifts, carried by unseen currents—old memories, unresolved emotions, quiet pressures, forgotten joys. These currents move beneath awareness, shaping the journey without asking permission. Wherever the boat goes, it is not by choice but by what has been written deep inside. In this drifting, nothing new is created; only what was hidden is revealed, and I move through myself in silence.