[CONTENTID1] prologue:the linoleum soul [/CONTENTID1]

[CONTENTID2]

Ripples of water swallow sandcastles and seashells, as they roar in warning towards the shore, rolling themselves first into a wave that is getting bigger and bigger and as they let themselves sweep off the shore in the wetness of salted ocean, they fall in grace and fluidity, letting everything that they have collected along the way towards the shore go.

It's a constant and repetitive cycle, for the ocean to collect and let everything go. Ocean is one of the many things we can't keep between our fingers no matter how hard we try. We are limited by the bumps and gaps in our hands to keep it still and intact. The ocean is bound to be let out in the open after all, going to places we never imagine to exist. Only the earth itself is able to contain an existence so enigmatic such as oceans, spread across the continent. 

The sea contain secrets with truths that our narrow minded thinking will never be able to comprehend. We hold on too much into things that are able to be grasped in our palms and proved with theories. Some kind of magic exists truly in this world, though often deem as a superstition, but they are there. They exist around us or even far from us.

It starts from the smallest things, from the taboo of opening an umbrella inside of the house, to a belief that each of us are linked to our soulmates through a red string of fate, to the existence of mermaids and deep water monsters, and lastly to the existence of the immortals and the ones who are able to not bleed even if a blade slashes through their skin. 

A man stands by the sea, solemnly gazing into the setting sun. His hand is folded on his back, his back straightened and his eyes carry the weight of history through the lifetimes he had went through, and suffered through. Reigns of glory falling into ashes, family members turning on to each other, blood, betrayal, lovers in uncompromised relationships, he