Acclimation

Underneath this smile lies everything.
All my hopes and anger, pride and shame.
I'll make myself a pact,
Not to shut doors on the past.
Just for today, I am free.

"Why are you here, of all places?" is the question I ask myself most these days. It is not to say that my room above a non-descript tavern in Port Kar is not sufficient to meet my needs. I have a window that overlooks a long, winding canal. In the morning, before the fog rolls away, I enjoy opening the poorly painted shutters to watch the more industrious of vendors and merchantmen poling their little boats and gondolas toward another workday. There are few streets or land-based thoroughfares in Port Kar. Most own some form of watercraft, be it only a raft, to get from here to there. It is an adjustment for a man of Ar, used to tree-lined boulevards and impressively wide avenues, or even filthy, prostitute-filled alleyways, to get used to. You find, quite quickly, however, that the scarcity of sidewalks does little to impede their citizens. There is even a market, I am told, that gathers around a monument to the 25th of Se'Kara, the day Port Kar claimed her Home Stone. Unlike the impressive figure of Hesius in the Great Square of Ar, this monument is erected in the middle of a large, inland lake, in the the vicinity of the city's arsenal. The trades and bartering of market day are done almost exclusively from the decks and planks of the vendors various boats and rafts, each abutting one another in close proximity, the crowding an accepted and even anticipated coming together of humanity.

I will not lose my faith.
It's an inside job today.
I know this one thing well...
I used to try and kill love.
It was the highest sin.
Breathing insecurity...out and in.

I purchased a small boat yesterday. Nothing all that impressive. It is painted bottle green and is navigated with a single oar. Often, the oar is used as a pole, as many of the canals in the city are quite narrow, and some are deceptively shallow. Though it is unimpressive, the fellow that sold it to me pointed out the advantages. "Pretty floaters get to bein' stole tha' much quicker," he pointed out. It made sense. The rental of my room increased a bit with the privilege of docking my 'floater' to the tavern's moorings. Not that I have a private slip or anything. It just knocks around with the other boats, one more rope amidst many. Still, it makes me smile to see it bob in the shallow canal with the others. I suppose a sturdy boat in a city like Port Kar is much like a trusted pair of sandals in most other cities.

Searching hope, I am shown the way to run straight.
Pursuing the greater way for all...human light.
Holding on, the light of night,
On my knees to rise and fix my broken soul...again.

I will work my way out to the market around midday, acclimate myself further to the watery 'streets' of Port Kar on the way. There are literally hundreds, and perhaps thousands, of canals that bisect one another in nothing that resembles sensible right angles. This city is like most. It is illegal to create a map, and it is a capital offense. While the city is eager to welcome strangers, it is not so amenable as to let them draw up directions to their rich and famous. Not to mention their armory or other strategic points of interest. Most, despite their reputation for inhospitability, are more than happy to point you in some direction if you simply ask. You might not get where you intended upon going, but you will undoubtedly find yourself in some place of interest.

Let me run into the rain,
To become a human light again.
Let me run into the rain,
To shine a human light today.
Life comes from within your heart and desire.

*lyrics from 'Inside Job' by Pearl Jam