I went to the end of the world to pour my sorrows into the ocean, to ask the ocean to wash them away so that I could be free and move on. The ocean, however, is a busy place and though it was kind enough to listen, it didn't reply in the way that I had expected.
Your sorrows, said the ocean, do not exist. They are of your own making. You can leave them here, but if you do not do the hard work to believe what I just told you, they will just return. I can do the hard work, I thought, I can change.
Of course I didn't need to come all the way here to know this, but I'm glad I did. I thought I might stay until sunset, and maybe I should have, but I didn't go for the sun. I went for the ocean and the ocean did not disappoint.
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