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Being in Florida for more than a week,
is for the weak.

There is a reason people come here to die.
As if there is nothing else to work for,
but to retire and become
a rendition of
the old man and the sea.

The lonely fishermen sitting
in front of the open
superior, ocean.

Sunset at the yacht club

The sunset here is always a big event.
People wait patiently on the sand
for the day to be over.

If time did exist,
the sunset would be an alarm clock
waking everyone up to reality
that our days are counted
and this may be the last sunset.

The ocean is extremely glittery
and animated today.
The waves appear to be staying within
the water.
Moving in different directions
but not in a moody way,
but like a calm, crazy person
doing their best to come off as
doing its best to not create distraction
or messes.

A feeling of future loneliness has
just hit me.

If I do leave tomorrow, I’m already
missing my mom.
But if she still wants to move to Newport,
the sadness wouldn’t be so strong.
Actually, I’m going to call my mom
right now,
just in case tomorrow,
is it.


Write about old man w/ fedora and crossword puzzle book
is a note
that I scribbled on my hand
frantically and emotionally after leaving the beach.

Well you see, I was writing away at Starbucks when
I then decided to head over to the beach.

I sat down at a picnic table to take advantage of the shade
since I had forgotten my aviator sunglasses.

I sat there,
staring at the glittering ocean and
in the middle
of a sentimental thought,
sat down an older man in a fedora and a book full
of crosswords.
I immediately liked him and he soon left.

As I was leaving the beach, I noticed that
he was also leaving the beach.
But what grasped my attention and sentiment,
his hands were in his pockets
and he was looking at the ground as he walked.

The walk felt so familiar
I had to write it
on the palm of my hand.