Nostalgia Part Two.

Last weekend, I finally reunited with the beach, after years of staying at home like a neet in front of my computer all day.


I must say, it was quite exhilarating to take a breath of the fresh air that you can only find on the beach. And then, to take a huge whiff of ash and charcoal up my sinuses. Mmm. I don’t remember why I’d held it off so long. It wasn’t as dreadful as it was lazy. “Lazy” is probably just a surface level description. I guess a better phrase would be “not active”.

I used to “actively” go to the beach, once a week. Maybe twice. Now, I find myself not getting out of bed, or laying on the couch with my phone.

I used to go with my family and spend time with them there. Now I sit at home, complaining that I have nothing to do while there is a plethora of things to do all day. When did I get so distant?

When did I get so boring?

When did I get so inactive?

Is this my poor attempt at a poem? It’s not really going anywhere, so you might as well click away.


When did I get so “tired” all the time?

When did I get so isolated?

Am I isolated by choice? DO I choose this for myself? That can’t be right. After all, no one wants to be lonely…right?

I suppose sometimes it’s reasonable to want some alone time. But in perspective, it’s been years since I’ve done anything social with my family. There’s a glimpse of bonding every few months or so. It’s like a pinch of pepper in a bitter soup. Though I guess I wouldn’t know anything about cooking.

It’s more like a process of burning stuff and seeing how much I can eat before I ingest too much of the charred portions. Maybe that’s why my taste buds are off. Does anyone even put pepper in a bitter soup? Is it salt? Do people put salt in their soup? I don’t even know.

But back to the poor man’s poem:

When did I start hating the breeze on my face and the sand in my toes? —Feeling like I’m a part of nature itself. (This is slowly taking a hippie stance)

When did I start to hate being a part of something more? —Like bonding with my family or friends.

Man, it would be amazing to just own a beach house and be right there on the shores. It would be amazing to be right up there with the action.

It would be nice to connect to others more often too. —Tourists, passersby, neighbors. Wouldn’t it be great if we could just join in on the global conversation without being pursued or shut down by anyone else? I wasn’t always so sheltered and shut in. I used to actively participate, used to constantly share my ideas, used to put myself out there.

What happened?

I realized the beach wouldn’t always be sunny and radiant. I realized that the beach could be unrelenting too. (Wow this whole metaphor is a stretch) The world won’t always be as dazzling as it was that one time you experienced a happy memory. Maybe you’ll be caught in a downpour and you’ll get drenched, or maybe there’ll be a tornado that just sucks you in as soon as you get there.

At least the beach smells nice. You know, excluding all that ash.

But hey, chin up. There won’t always be a tornado on the beach.



One thought on “Nostalgia Part Two.

  1. Reblogged this on gameinthelife and commented:
    This post really struck me hard since I was able to relate to it. In it he talks about loneliness stemmed from distancing yourself from others. I know that I tend to isolate myself from others in favor of playing games or just being lazy in general, and I’m sure that other gamers can relate as well. When we play, or at least when I play, my soul tends to get sucked into the game, and all that is left is a empty shell. People reach out, but there comes a time when they give up, and when you come back to reality you realized you separated yourself from them. Anyways, the writer struck the nail on the head about people isolating themselves.


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