in the moonlit epochs of my former existence, before the ridicule of time had made playthings of us all, i found an esoteric joy in sailing. it was not merely the act, but the art, learned from ancient manuals that whispered secrets not of navigation by stars alone, but of going back to the beginning, where the water touched the sky in a lover’s embrace. this knowledge, arcane and eldritch, shared with few, held within it the marrow of life, teaching us that to truly understand the cosmos, one must first comprehend the whispering waves beneath one's vessel.