Ask and it will be given unto you.
Search and you will find.
Yet I knocked and no door opened, I still stood in a mind created queue.
I asked and I did not receive, my request declined.

I was looking at the sea.
Others and I before had found it glitteringly beautiful.
Now it was as if I could no longer see.
In its constant motion, it’s utter disregard for us, it seemed immovable.

Then I noticed the small stream trickling down the beach.
It’s waters were insignificant but cool and fresh.
Soon it would be subsumed in the whole out of reach.
But now it seemed a metaphor to escape this mind meshed and depressed.

If you look.
You may find a open book.