Your name is...

...night.

Your name is Layl. You were born on the edge of a pier shortly after midnight, just as you were conceived – quite by accident, thanks to your mother's alcoholism. Your life, for your humble twenty-four years, is a happy one, filled with fun, love and some success. Why are you then grumbling about your existence, is something you don't even know. You just don't see the point of it, of life. We're all going to die eventually, what does it matter when? You just want it to be beautiful... But yet again, you're a slimy, ungrateful brat. At least you're aware of that, I guess...

You are looking at the stars from the same pier where you saw them for the first time in your life. Or, more precisely, you are trying to catch a glimpse of them, at least for a little while, from behind and around the clouds. You've seen the weather forecast; you know it's going to rain. And the wind that blows your blue dress and the stormy waves around you only confirm it. But you're not afraid to get wet. You love water and have always felt like you belong right in it, whether it's in the form of the rain, a shower, the sea, a lake or a waterfall. Sometimes you wish you had been born as a fish, a dolphin, a shark or a whale, so that you would have the honor of always being in the waters of the great Ocean.

You had to learn how to surf perfectly a few years ago, in order to blend in with the sea in Nazaré. That was the plan. But you never managed to stand up on those boards. Not that this would have stopped your plan for you, the problem was that no one was going to let you surf the biggest waves in the world without at least some prior experience.

After just a few seconds you see a lightning in the sky. And in a minute it's already a lightning show in the otherwise dark night. You look at bolts. Strange... You don't hear any thunder. There's only light. You now see it as an allegory of your entire existence. The light is your life, and the dark sky is the entire universe and the vast meaning of the human life from its beginning to its very end.

The storm portends your fate. The wind is so strong that it blows your frail body towards the edge. It's as if the air is additionally inviting you to go right there, and it offers to accompany you. You sit at the end of the pier in order to be as close to the water and the sky as possible. Seen from afar, you are right in the middle of them – only you and your flowing brown hair separate them. But you don't want to separate them, you want to be a part of them. Nature does not need you or any other living person.

Your name is Layl and today you will merge with the sea, where your soul wants you to be...