And I feel like they are drifting without intention. And I feel like I get the idea of drifting. Is it guided, not drifting? I can't get the distinction now.
But I know that they were just moving, no goal, no nothing, no intention. They were just moving because they can't. And that's what they are supposed to do because they are water animals or something.
So I feel like using guided means you have direction. And even if the path isn't clear, the guide is internal. And you have relationship with that direction.
So I love the images. I thank the sea for teaching me how to sail within myself. I think I love sailing within yourself because you're not sailing across the sea.
You're not sailing away from the storm, but within. Like the whole journey you're explaining was actually internal. The sea was just a mirror and a metaphor for you, the writer, or you, the poet, meeting your own depth.
And I feel like from everything you have said in the piece, you have learned how to navigate that depth. You know, the tides, you explain the storms, you know, it feels like at the end of the day, you achieved mastery. You know, I would say, like I said, I love reading everything from you.
Your metaphor is always coherent. I don't know, there's no line that was reset, no image was useless or careless. It is very, it is very visual.
It's a visual context. Like when I was reading a lot of things from the poem, it was well-assembled. So I'll give you that, Auntie Shiawa.
I can literally read everything that comes from you. Especially that last part, you were also writing about loving you. I want you to tell me what they call that thing, Auntie Shiawa.
These days, I think my memory is doing some trick on me. When you share that on the WhatsApp, what do you usually call it? There's something they call that thing, like there's a word for it. I've forgotten.
