Yeah, I'm updating. It's probably because my personal diary (my boyfriend, YES! We're still together!!) is all the way in Philly for the summer..or it could be I'm getting back into the habit of writing. Who knows?
As I said before, my dad currently lives in Queens now. Nothing against Queens or anything, but I feel so unfinished about the move. I literally went to school while still living in Coney Island, and then returned for the summer living in Queens. Lemme tell you, I thought living in CI was bad, but Queens is just on a whole other level.
However, I ironically find myself returning to my little hometown by the sea, reminiscing. I can't help but feel so confused (not in a negative way, necessarily). It's only been 10 years since I was 11...and it's hard to explain. I've aged, but I'm still in the same body. However, everything feels different (ignoring my double d breasts and thunder thighs LOL).But on a serious note. I think different. I ponder on things. I'm (slowly) becoming more vocal with my opinions. I analyze situations in all angles before reacting. It's funny. I always believed that I did these things, but it hasn't been until recently that I've realized to what extent I've mature with it. I always believed that I thought differently from those around. But I realize it was only to a certain degree.
At the same time, after being out of state for months at a time, I had the opportunity to analyze the people of my hometown.If you know anything about Coney Island, it is mixed, but segregated all the same. It was during the first fireworks of the weekend. As my eyes danced about the crowd that hung in front of the Polar Express (a ride that is apart of Luna Park, the amusement park, for those who don't know); I couldn't help but be completely lost. Although I knew CI had always been quite ratchet.....I didn't know how bad. Or maybe it's because I was always complacent because I was used to it. I asked my best friend who was with me just HOW IN THE FUCK did we survive, because there was so many of "them"...and so few of us.
As we roamed the streets, I felt something inside of me. I couldn't describe it. We stumbled past the elementary school I used to attend summer camp for. I smiled, but tears pricked my eyes. I have horrible memory, but I remembered bits and pieces. The ice cream truck standing in front of it during those sweltering August afternoons, and how the ice cream man would always spot me a cone even when I was broke. The playground that stood beside it was shut down, the mats scattered from the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy. That didn't stop the laughter of the kids hanging upside down off the bars, and the teachers yelling on about how they would tell their parents they weren't allowed to come back if they didn't get down.
Not too far away, stood the junior high school that I always boast about; although my time there was not the greatest, I had met one of my best friends there (Dinah, the girl who I was with during this late night expedition). I thought back to the time when I was in high school, but had gone back to visit. I remembered wondering why the steps had seemed like an exercise, when all I had to do was skip the steps. That time I walked through the halls, and didn't understand why everything seemed smaller, more compact. It baffled me when I thought back on this, because I remembered when I actually attended the school, it seemed infinitely large. I couldn't help but feel like a piece of food passing through the digestive system whenever I was going to class.
When it all came down, I realized just how much I missed Coney Island. The one place that I was desperate to escape, I wished I could be back in. I thought about how amazing it would be if I could raise my children there. Have them run up and down the block with the other kids in the neighborhood. Whenever they'd want to escape home for a while, they could walk up and down the boardwalk, from wherever we lived, down to Manhattan Beach. Run in the sand, do cartwheels, be free. Experience true laughter, the one that comes from the heart and rattles the whole body.
I blinked a few more times as I wadded up the thoughts and feelings, and swallowed them. I stretched and found myself stuck between realization and nostalgia.
In the end, I'm not sure where to go with this.
But I am proud to say that no matter where I go, no matter what I do: I will always be a Brooklyn girl at heart, with a special love for Coney Island. <3
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