Written August 14th, 2015
I’ve wanted to go to the beach all summer but everyone always goes on Saturdays when I work, so today I went by myself. I got the keys to my new apartment yesterday and I should really be moving my things in, but I have two weeks to do it and I think I’m going though an internal change right now – coming out of something or maybe coming into something, I don’t know – I just wanted to write and go to the beach as much as possible before it gets cold.
I wanted to be in the water. I’ve been daydreaming about quarries and lakes and water droplets in my eyelashes and my soaked hair sticking to the back of my neck.
The smell of salt water reminds me of all of the beaches I went to with my Dad when I was younger – Myrtle Beach, Jersey Shore, Rhode Island. Sunburns and sunscreen, melting into a beach towel out of exhaustion, my body sore from the waves hitting me all day, falling asleep in the car ride home.
On the subway ride over here, it was so exciting to finally hit the water. I saw a plane flying out from JFK airport and thought about how many times I have been on that plane flying over the glittering water. I didn’t think that Rockaway would look like this – knee-high grass, yellow flowers, seagulls picking at algae and gathering on sand banks. Houses with ladders left on the roof.
It made me nostalgic, but I don’t know why. Everything in New York this summer has made me nostalgic – something I see reminds me of one moment in my life or it could even be as simple as a feeling I had once. It’s not painful for me. It makes me think of magic of having a brain like an ocean, so many knots deep but still able to wash everything away. An ocean is one of the only things that looks calm while it’s still moving – it’s a sort of peace for someone who will never be able to sit still.