(This is an automatic translation, so some parts may be wrong.)
It's very, very big, rough and painful. Whenever I look at the stormy sea, I miss the calm sea.
It's not that I'm coveting anything, but I guess it's more like a prayer.
The storm will subside when either the prayers from outside or my prayers are answered, or when the time of the sea is over.
I will not lose my life in the stormy sea.
You will not die, you will just drown and struggle for breath. There is nothing to be afraid of, because this is the ocean.
Everyone knows that there are many kinds of oceans.
Everyone knows that there are many kinds of oceans, but the people who pass through here don't live here, so they may not know.
Those who have been here for a long time have been looking at the sea for about 14 years. Then they greeted each other and left as if they had arrived yesterday.
I think the sea was calm that day.
The sea I see is less stormy.
They just start, and they come back for a period of time. Maybe twice a day, maybe three times a day, the storms come at any time.
When the storm is over, the sea is nothing. There is nothing. It's almost nothing because there are not many "normal creatures" to begin with. Nothingness here is the absence of emotion. The sea's emotions become nothingness and it prepares for the next storm.
Actually, I don't dislike this "sea of nothingness.
I don't even like it, but I think it's better than the stormy sea. It's because I am the only one who can feel the sea in the quiet time.
Sometimes there are people who come close to me, but they seem to lose patience with the repetition of the storm and disappear when the sea of nothingness that precedes it comes.
I don't like to be alone.
I don't like to be alone, but I don't like to drag anyone else into the stormy sea either. So this is fine. With this, nothing will change, the sea will look at me repeatedly, and I will feel the sea.