Last Saturday, J, M, and I decided to take the E train to its last stop. It's interesting how the sea calls us still. And even if it wasn't the best beach to go to, we couldn't wait to be near the water's edge.
Plus points:
Soft-serve banana ice-cream
Man in orange briefs showing off his BALLS
Old Woman in a BRA
EXTRA white people
We have an instinct to deny our landlocked state and acknowledge the mariners that that we are. Like turtles born on land, we know that we must seek “the pounding of the waves,” the pulsing of collective memory. Not exempted from the mixing of blood and water in our veins, the sea is part of us. And though we risk the assuring concreteness of land, time and time again, we realize the need to thread through the unknown and surrender our gravity. Only then do we experience reconciliation between what we are and what we'll never completely be. And so finally we return to shore, ready to hold up our own weight, if only to wait and be called home again.
