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White Noise Crashing Waves Nostalgia

from PETRICHOR​.​dust​.​earth​.​leaves​.​stars. by Type: V

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My father would carry me on his shoulders. We'd arm wrestle and sometimes he let me win.

We'd have pushup contests and I never thought I'd be able to one day do as many as him.

Some nights, after school, mom would come home from work, tired and stressed. Pop and I would walk to the video rental shop, pick a movie (and a few games) buy some popcorn and the whole fam would have a movie night.

My brother, mom and myself would always try to tickle him, even though we knew it would never work. Haha.

But he'd chuckle sometimes and then stop, JUST as we thought we got him.

Camping.

We'd go. The whole family. Sometimes not just us. Our uncles and aunts, cousins, grandparents, and family friends.

The whole clan.

By montauk or bear mountain.

You could always hear the waves in the background.

Once, mom had her hotdog stolen RIGHT out of her hand, by a seagull. She just stood there in shock until we all burst out laughing.

We'd get the firewood in the day and stockpile so it'd be ready at night. Dad showed us how to make s'mores, but we always like his best. Unlessssss you could get grandma to make yours. Top tier.

Puppet shows, bike rides, cooking together.

Theres always this one memory, its faint. Golden hour, by an overpass. Looking at the sunset. Cars sound like the ocean. Thanks dad.

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Type: V New York, New York

We are each others guiding light, when the stars are to hard to see.

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