is everything I do just written on water?

Reading through Hotel Cassiopeia by Charles Mee, which I'm working on with my freshman tomorrow morning in class.  I come across this passage by the character Joseph and realize it's somewhat about me (somewhat...only...somewhat...):


JOSEPH
I work in the basement.
That's where I keep all my materials
for my work.
And I think:
What am I doing?
I've lost my way
why don't I give it up?
there are times I get so lost
I don't know what to do
I've gone so deep, so far
I don't know if I'll ever find my way out again
and then: what's the point?
is this useful?
does anyone care?
I get up in the morning
some days I just weep and weep
is everything I do just written on water?
but what else can I do?
just because another artist is incredibly famous
doesn't mean his work is destined to fall
into oblivion in another generation
and my work will endure
is this any way to spend a life?
I'm living my life in a basement. 


I look at the line, "is everything I do just written on water?" over and over again...


I think of it too much.


It's times like these my mind turns to fantasies.


There are times all I want to do is hide with a loved one in a small town near a body of water I can swim in.


What type of body of water?


A creek?


Too small.  One can barely wade in a creek, let alone swim.


A river?


All the ones I know of are far too polluted.  I dream of jogging next to rivers instead, like that river in Poland I jogged next to in May of 2011.


A lake?


Lakes are fine...I guess...but don't really have tides.  I want something that ebbs and flows.


An ocean?


It certainly ebbs and flows...but...too big.  I dream of being swallowed up by a tsunami before I can swim safely back to shore.


A sea...


It's not even a question.  A sea.  I want a sea.  It's the perfect size.  It has tides.  It has a pebble beach (at least the one in my head does) and meets up with sand somewhere on the coast line.


Eh.


Whatever...


I should stop reading esoteric poetic playwrighting.


However, this passage from later in the play is nice:


JOSEPH
Still,
if I were to say anything to you
it would be:
do what you love
not what you think you should do
or what you think is all you can do
what you think is possible for you
no
do what you love
and let the rest follow along behind it
or not
or not
because
even if it doesn't follow along behind
you will have done what you've loved
and you know what that is
you know better than anyone what you love
and a life centered around your love
cannot be wrong
cannot finally be disappointing 


I have too much in common with this guy.