When It Feels Like “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind,” Except It’s the Hamptons, Not Montauk

Day out on the Long Island. This photo was taken at Tiana Beach. Hamptons. It didn’t rain, but the fog was thick and cloaked the sun all day. The whole day was like a dream, one of those dreams where you or someone in your body walks into or out of a thick, yet gossamer mist and you or your clone has a message to convey, and you or your doppelgänger could have come from down the beach or from the ocean, whose hypnagogic rhythm of the crashing waves enchant and entice, and you or your transcendental twin has no idea those selfish waters will never give you back to dry land, because you or your impostor is obedient, in a deep trance, and the magic is calling, faintly, alluringly. It has its own request. 

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Really fun day. Laughed and ate and sang and laughed while screaming with glee until I nearly peed my pants and now all I want to do is sleep. My subconscious yearns for the ocean’s ether, to follow its hushed, iambic echoes, to sublimate and interfuse with the mist, to tread like a ghost.

More photos later.

A little discussion.

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