There was only one thought in my mind when posting these same photos on social media: That is that it doesn’t matter where in the world it is. Standing on the beach, looking out at the sea with my back to the land, it always feels like home. It could be genetic memory. It could be straight-up fantasy, but there is no place with a broader horizon. I don’t know if it’s looking into the past or the future, but it feels like home. This is where land ends. I would be perfectly happy with life ending here too. Not necessarily now or looking out at this particular stretch of the horizon, but somewhere by the sea. Or on the sea. Whichever. However it turns out.

I’d forgotten just how grimy Rockaway Park is and it was more apparent now in the off-season. There are new buildings and maybe (maybe not) new faces but even the new parts seem not only trapped in some time passed, but in decline. Three different people asked me for money within a block from the 116th Street Station. The second two saw me deny the first. The third saw me deny two. Is that hope or desperation. Who else were they going to ask? There were only two of us getting off the shuttle and coming out the front doors. The other person, I believe, lived or worked there. One “tourist” for dozens of empty hands. Maybe they only ask now out of habit.

It was my original plan to spend a few days at the new hotel out there and that may happen yet. It’s a relatively small building, a boutique outfit with a restaurant getting positive reviews all over the web and print media. It’s kind of out of place stuck there in the middle of the grime. They seem, from their social media appearances, to stay busy, but everyone and everything who makes an effort can look busy on Instagram. We’ll see. There isn’t much out there to occupy one’s time with the beaches more or less closed. The other restaurants are dodgy. The bars are a bit rough. Ah fuck it. Who knows. Maybe I’ll just go home. Maybe not.

Standing out on the beach though, looking out at the ocean, it does feel like home. More like home than home where all my stuff is.

Weird mood. I’ll stop here.

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