#jiang cheng (and maybe ymj) = river

[twinclownsoflotuspiers]

Seafoam | XianChengXian, Stream of Consciousness (of sorts), non-linear, symbolisms

"A-Xian, have you ever seen the sea?"

What a stupid question, Mother.

Is what you wish to speak. Mother's voice is lined with smiles - little mussel shells dotting white sand.

You grab. Sand slips through the gaps of your fingers. Your mother's voice has forever been formless.

"A-Xian, have you ever heard the sea?"

You put the conch shell you picked up and place it to your ear. The sand is scratchy and you feel a few grains scrape against the lobe. There is hollowness.

All I hear is the dead, you wish to say.

You have never thought of going to the sea; why should you? When the river that laps against your toes is enough. When brown sand and silt sit stubbornly in the gap of your big toe as you wiggle it further in and don't scrape. The water is cold, the soil lukewarm. You still hold the conch and hear your own footsteps squelch wetly.

Why is the sea important? You are bound to the rivers.

"Do you know you can float easily in the sea? While it takes only one strong current and you sink like stone where the river is concerned."

Isn't water where you sink regardless whether it's salt or sweet? You wish to ask.

The river is where you learned how to swim. The river is where you found a companion. The river is where you learnt water's embrace could be warm.

The river is your friend.

"A-Xian, the river takes as much as it gives."

The river was your friend.

Your knees disappear. You watch your skin prickle and raise in gooseflesh, cold water lapping around. The river is murky and you see not a single fish. Water doesn't part but it allows your fingers to dip in and grab around. When you raise them, you watch little drops that remain and dirty silt lining your finger nails. In the dark, you think it doesn't look too different from blood.

Mother, the sea destroys as well. You think.

There is no silence when the waters close around you. There is the sound of drowning in your ears. You feel the painful pressure and you bring your fingers to your ears.

The river is cold.

The river is hot.

The river is not a friend.

The murkiness is heavy and you wonder if those are hands......fingers reaching out for you. You think if you dissolve in the river, you'll slip past those fingers like how the sand did through yours.

End

#xiancheng #chengxian #fanfic #symbolism #non linear narrative #stream of consciousness #idk what i wrote just a random word dump #jiang cheng (and maybe ymj) = river #sea = jianghu #in case that wasn't clear #mdzs