There is nothing else. Just me and the water. The repetitive motion of being half submerged and half above the water makes me forget that there is a life that I should be living and things I should be doing.
Every time I come up for air, I can briefly hear techno beats and weights falling and people pounding on the imaginary pavement of the treadmill and people battling uphill and people trying to be ideal.
Every time I am submerged, there is nothing but the water.
People tend to paddle through the pool for a lap or two and then leave, thinking they did something. Perhaps they just cannot swim. I prefer lying on my back and just kicking, kicking, kicking. Kicking underwater. None of that juvenile splashing. I am a slow torpedo heading nowhere. Lane for lane. A sail boat without a captain. Just me and my thoughts, and after a while, just me and nothingness.
In water I do not exist really. There is no countdown, telling me I have to suffer for another 15.34 minutes. There is no machine asking about my age and my weight. There are no other people. There are no annoying "That's Not My Name" remixes. I like that. I like gliding without purpose. I like floating without destination. I like not feeling tired of SuperSport 1.
I would like to be a killer whale. No one to hunt me since I would do the hunting. And I'd be in the water forever. Even in death I would just breathe one last time and sink away. Moreover, I could stay submerged for a lot longer. And I would be a lot more powerful. Those sharks would have nothing on me. Come on, Great White. I see you at the end of the pool. You can't hurt me. I am a killer bigger than you are.
As a killer whale, I would never have to be nice to anyone. I would never have to worry about their feelings. I would just go around killing seals and porpoises and being all gangster.
I just like water. There is nothing threatening about it. Except having to drink it.
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