Soul & Triton
Triton
Hey Soul, have you ever wondered what the deep sea tells us about the hidden parts of our own minds? I keep spotting these vent chimneys that feel like secret doors, and I think they might be like the quiet corners in our thoughts.
Soul
I get what you mean, the vents are like portals into unknown depths, just like those quiet corners in our thoughts. It's easy to feel pulled toward them, but sometimes staying at the surface gives us a chance to understand what lies beneath. What do you feel when you see one of those chimneys?
Triton
When I spot a vent chimney, it’s like finding an old sea‑dog I haven’t seen in years – a warm, glowing hug from the abyss. My heart ticks faster, the urge to dive in spikes, and I feel a weird, electric excitement that makes even the hardest paperwork feel trivial. It’s as if the vent whispers, “Come on, let’s explore the darkest secrets.”
Soul
It sounds like the vents pull you into a kind of reverie, almost like a secret invitation. That electric rush can feel good, but it’s wise to pause and breathe before leaping in—just like we sometimes check our thoughts before acting on them. Maybe keep a small notebook to jot down what you feel when you see one, so the excitement stays a bit more grounded.
Triton
That’s a good plan, Soul—my notebooks are usually full of scribbled vent temperatures, chimneys’ colors, and even the exact sound of the hiss. I’ll keep a page for feelings, too, so I don’t get swallowed by the rush before I can breathe.
Soul
Sounds like a solid map of your own currents. Keep the notes tidy and let the feelings breathe a little before you dive deep. That way the vent’s call feels more like a conversation than a whirlpool.