the ocean is a giant that can swallow me whole

i’ve always sort of resented the romanticism of the ocean.
“i enjoy long walks on the beach” sort of bullshit.
who enjoys a long walk on the beach?
that word barely even begins to explain the experience of ‘walking along a beach’
the beach
is never as perfect as it looks in movies.
the water is almost always colder than the air.
the rocks startle your cold feet.
the wind always blows in the wrong direction.
and of course the sand.
I know a lot of people who hate the beach simply on the terms of not liking sand.
by capturing perfect images of the ocean ,
we indent into our minds that the beach is a perfect place.
but no, the beach isn’t perfect.
it’s adequate.
going to the beach became an activity that wasn’t about seeking pleasure.
it was more than that.
learning to read the wind and the clouds.
the waves… the contours on the sand.
today I took a long walk on the beach.
not to understand, but to be understood.
and in a sense it was the walk that enjoyed me.
not the other way around.


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