Sometimes you find yourself stuck in places that feel as if they are apart of a slot machine. Time in and time out. Penny in and penny out. Brewster was a slot and now Wellfleet has extended further into a larger portion of time and distance.
We drove ourselves into a land within the National Seashore of Cape Cod’s reassurance and hid out in a cabin like place, brightly lit, and slept and moved around like people who have done this before and will do it again. There was an unexpected quiet that settled on each person. Either through kayaking on one of three connection ponds, chess, physics, words, sandy beaches. There was something changing in the silence all the same.
I felt disconnected with recent news looming above each and everyone of us who all knew and who were all attached to become detached. I came up with an idea that I’d like to pursue in the near future. And I was troubled by things from double beeps on a vulnerable screen that one carries around in pockets and hands all day these days. I had anger and laughter and I tried to boil them together and I ended up with a lopsided piece of afterthought that did not taste good in the slightest. I’ve been asked similar questions, all worded the same, that made me wonder and others I brushed off hoping that the answer would not come to me in quite sometime.
At the sands, I watched seals go up and under, and listened to the ooos and the ahhs. What would a seal think of all these spectators, the ones in and out of the salt? I did join the seals, crashing underneath waves that towered above my head and pulled me under in attempt to keep me down so I can feel the strength I do not possess myself. And I would rise above and watch stumbling people and I’d laughed at the lighthearted distress they put off.
Once in a while, or more often than not, I would type sorry I have no service and it felt good to do so, because sometimes I feel like typed words can curse things that should not be cursed. And it makes things feel unreal when I really would like them to be. And I was at a beach last night with a girl I’ve known for a very long time, and other boys and girls I have not, and she said imagine life without internet, although she was struggling to find the right words here and there, and I said life would have an authentic touch that our parents and our parent’s parents all had, and sadly this generation does not. And we sat on the beach looking at dim stars and listening to crashing shores that reminded me of my childhood. Our fire was lit, and then blew out.
But the fourth of july came and people home ran around and drank sour liquids, while I sat waiting, when I, in fact, hate waiting for things I feel time does not allow extra points for. So many packed onto a beach my parents had met at, and they romanticized with America but mostly with themselves and I did not feel patriotic in that moment, but I dressed the part. And we ate in the bar and bought shirts and went home and wallowed in the expected firework show we did not see but heard from a distance far across the land of the trees.
And in boredom, and having had people already fall asleep before the hour became a double digit, I tried solving a one thousand piece puzzle with my dear friend, while texts of parties other friends were at came through and then stopped once they walked through the doors, so I tossed my phone on the couch to focus on something I did not want to focus on. I asked when was the last time we saw fireworks together on the fourth, for we spent every fourth of july together, and she did not know and I don’t think anyone would have either if I asked.
There were two parts of that trip I remember specifically. One being on our coffee trip on that red white and blue morning. We walked through an empty parade with hundreds of people lining the sidewalks, and it felt like I was the show, along with my mom and Joan. Then we saw a guard rail that I used to sit on over the water’s edge with five of my closest companions, and I was reminded by a comment how that could never be again, and so we continued on down the street for another mile leaving the parade behind us, and I had no urge to turn back even though the act of doing so was brought up multiple times.
And second was during a silly film watched within the car we did not drive. My brother had gone, for he is good at disappearing when he does not want to be found, and Kristen was too focused on the screen and we found out later that she had cried at the cartoons, which Paul and I thought it was the funniest thing we had ever heard. Leaving me in the back facing the cars behind us, however there was only one, for we were in the second to last row, and I was talking to someone and I laughed at the words I typed and nobody knew why I was laughing and there was that disconnect mentioned. So I put the phone down because I did not want to wait for a reply any longer. And, therefore, I just looked at the darkened car behind us and listened to words of people I could not see even if I had turned around to look at a moving picture.
It sounds all drained and washed out but I did have a dance party one night in my room, and even though it did not last long, it felt that it could and I was alright with that. And we laid down in the dark, the lamps above our heads had a sharp lighting once beneath, and we told stories of things that had made us laugh then and still does to this day.
It ended up all tying together in the end, and I even wore a dress to celebrate. I had bought books at my favorite bookstore and just from that, those typed words I had not even read yet, made life good and I felt happy and reassured once more.
It is a beautiful place. Although, setting suns and cloudy skies can really make anything beautiful.
✴ ✸ ✴