The island I grew up on had a Baby Raffle for Peace. I don’t know why it was called that, tradition I guess. People would take their babies and put them on little rafts and send them off into the dark waters. A lot of the time the babies would be crying and upset, but nothing bad ever happened to them. They would just kind cry themselves out and then be silent in all that darkness. Then we’d go over to the other island and five or six hours later the babies would drift up to the shore quiet as little babies starring up at the the nighttime sky and listening to the deep dark water.
You have to learn to be alone. Or you will always be a little piece of shit, crying baby. Give your preciousness to the darkness and let it cry and cry until it dies.
