Lightless Lighthouse

Cormoran Lee
8 min readSep 26, 2019
Photo by Philippe D. on Unsplash



Fishermen village, stormy seas, and I am sitting at my temporary home under the artificial light. Doing what?

15 hours straight of computer work. I recruit the best people in the world for the best project in the world and I am addicted to the human affection. I love those bustards as if they were my own ducklings.

I finished, I escaped. Ciao Ciao.

‘Dead bodies’ waterproof sack is attached, secured and contains a knife, flesh light, water canteen and shoes. Equipment for a party I’d say. You never know how the night will turn out right?!

I hop on board and forget about the world.

Control+Alt+Delete= Task Manager — End Task!


As I row and I row and I row and I breathe.. and I stop to think. and I row again, just to unthink.

The dark shadow of the mountain is swallowing every bit of light that escaped its destination, trying to reach my hope. All I see is feverish yellow clouds atop.

I cover my eyes with a piece of cloth since there is nothing I want to realistically imagine but perhaps let the dreams drown my mind.

I jump into the cold ocean just to release the fear of falling, and I realize once the fear disappeared, it turned fresh.

I shiver upon getting on board, and whisper something unfamilliar, since it contains no words, but a decent relief.

The cliffs and the boulders feel like a washing machine as they yum every wave and spray it into the air.. mist and mystery as I proceed.

My map is none, my will is born to cross the body of water and get home — But from the other way around.

A far away island blinks like a stained black dot in the night’s darkness.. a darker shade of black.. It’s a hint of a greater danger.. hmm am I curious enough?

While looking at the uninviting horizon, I paddle and I mumble.. oops, I am half way. Lying to myself, But feeding the child with exhilaration, the type of brain food you can’t get on the cozy sunny beach.

I turn away and I turn back, I am peaking on behind my shoulder just to see how stupid could it get, some call it irresponsibility.

I laugh with a touch of misery as I am not sure what ordeal I am getting myself into.

The lighthouse on the top of the mountain doesn’t speak to me.. “I see you there” I am shouting, and he doesn’t respond.. but he stands there a stud and I respect its calmness.. I get calm as I wave him away as it’s long gone.

Ohhhh, those splashes feel just right, the ocean carresses me.. I am in my element. Ah Poseidon, I am all yours.

My hunger for adventure sees no end as I start to drift miles and miles into the middle of no go zone. But I know, I can reach the next safe shores.. it is just behind this one.. this shoulder of this massive boulder.

The currents are ferious and they make me sit and relax. I am not a hero here. I am a guest. Thinking to myself: “Am I afraid/stupid/both?” I guess just stupid.

And I row and I row and I row.. I am carried away.. oh I love it with all of my heart. (I wish I could take you there to this moment to feel the mixed emotiones and the ridiculous sensations)

Where is the beach? There was a beach right here.

The tides and the waves were so high that there wasn’t even one piece of dry sand on the beach.. the ocean kissed the mountain.

I found my way through the waves and stuffed my SUP between the rocks to allow me to drink from the spring I know well. So thankful to have remembered the spring and have visited often.

I can trail back home and leave my equipment hidden in the bush or I am just fancy getting in trouble. I am so fancy.

I paddle and I splash and I sing and I shut up and I paddle some more and sing some more and shut us some more and over and over and over again.

After 2 hours.. I feel great, I feel fresh, I feel empty from nonesense, from unnecessary thoughts about da da da like a chitchat of guise, rolling in circles as they dip themselves in the mud.

Deep cleansing, let’s cruise.

No one in sight but a mere light from the next sandy beach where I can retreat and call it for the day..

No, tonight it’s cleaning time. Turn on the washing machine once more please.

I know, there is a place, a famous one, the most gorgeous island around and I am coming to cuddle in your charm and feel celestial. (As I dropped the idea of the nearest island, the black dot, I wanted to go further, to the end of myself)

The ocean is high, very high, way too high to play games.

But I am playing, until it’s game over I am going to be playing.

It seems that the currents are in my favor as I row and row for perhaps the 4th -5th hour. It felt right for once.. like the ocean is respecting my effort and push es me to my goal.

I see you, and I’m coming for you, what a beautiful reward.

I step on your sand and I inhale and I stretch and I sing and I beatbox and I almost dance.. what a celebration.

Ilha do Campeche in day time

I sit on the tiny island observing the main island and I cannot believe my eyes.. It’s like a fantasy or maybe a horror movie.. Them hundreds youngsters with cheap drinks and open trunks booming low quality sounds while shouting and buzzing all over the beach..

Why does it look so violent from here.. so overwhelming? What quantities of rubbish do we stuff into our schedule and brains. I like to party and I love people, but why am I headscratching in awe?

What a thunderstrike of a night.. but shall I sit for one moment to try to contain it or jump to look for additional trouble?

I take my time. no rush, no now. (No need to continue the story even though it doesn’t end there)

Who am I?

Why did I find the brightest light in the darkest night?

What this modern life stuffs in our primitive brains, I am out of memory and I actually don’t want to buy an extra card.

How to let go, and seek a peace of mind, a piece of stable ground? Stable or stormy.. hmmm what do I like/need/look for?

It was never about the sweets at home. No. the hidden treasures are lying beneath the surface, the bottom of ourselves, but how deep are we willing to go to find out and drop that heavy anchor? Will I be able to cut the chain if I disgust it by chance? Can I regret? Is there turning back?

I am drunk and dizzy and look for for a light to guide me, but the guidance doesn’t not come as a polite waiter to fill my endless thirst for clarity. Where the hell is my esperesso? I guess they don’t work for me around here. No one does for no one.

Some sand on my lips now.. I rememeber the feeling of highness at the end of the world.. the end of my world.. the begining of the real world..

Please no more sweeteners.. let’s keep it real and salty.. I need to stay close to the water.. I can’t wash it away from me..

I don’t need a towel, please, keep it to yourself.. just drying and tanning in the light of the moon.. he’s my best friend lately.. he is a good listener and he is warm in his wonderous ways.

Thanks, no tea tonight.. I will sip whatever I can find.. the resources are here, how do we harvest those without asking for more?

A ride home? Why suffer? I want to walk home.. why rushing? Why beeping, why sleeping in the artificial light of the screens.. throwing the alarm out of my window into the bamboo.. the singing of the birds will wake me up at 04:30 and I will keep on flying with them in my dreams until 06:00 where my dog is going to come around, knocking on my door, high on adrenaline and saying rudly: “Trick or treat?”

The boat is shaking now.. but my heart is stable.. I write and recall to print myself another invitation to meet the blue, my real girl.

I wish I could give you a kiss right now but there is a 5cm steel between us two..

Is this jail or is this home together with you?

My cabin is actually below the sea level as I am typing from inside of you my ocean.

Will you appear in my dreams?

Will you splash tomorrow?

Who am I talking to?

What am I writing?

Does it matter?

Am I here to follow the guidelines of an artist, of a writer, of a paddler? or to open my chest, share a real experience and say I am all yours?

I promise no light, no room service and no cuddles, but a house to rest from the world and express who you are.

But there is no express way to get here, in case you mistinterpreted the intention behind the word. Behind the wall. The stairs to this bedless bedroom are high. Sweat it out until you get to the top.. Break in with a beating heart so I’d know you’re alive and ready to live. And most importantly, for me to trust you. No passing strangers get here by mistake.. only the purest of them intentions will allow you to make the extra mile atop and crash back ashore.

No, this lighthouse was not meant for the sailors, from here, there is only one way out, headfirst to the water.

Welcome to my darkest ocean, my lightless ligthhouse.



Cormoran Lee

I pour my heart involuntarily into words, since I found that writing is the ultimate solution for a nightmarish sailing journey. I can still connect with you :)