Love, Sex, Coney Island
For me, a romantic movie is all about salt. You read it correctly. It’s all about salt. If you didn’t feel the sea-salt on your lips, didn’t see your footprints on the white sands, throw that movie away! If you call the movie as romantic, It should be filming near the sea. Because the sea is love itself. Sometimes calm, sometimes rough wild but always together with water, sand and salt. That’s why, I don’t even like the romantic movies, I love those high-market American romantic movies that filming on the beach. You know, it has a long beach. There are hot dog sellers, ice cream and candy shops on the edge of the beach. There is definitely an amusement park nearby. You will surely see that ferris wheel. After all, love always freezes the head! There are few but familiar people. They have no egos. Everybody, men and women, are happy with denim shorts and slippers. And among these lovely, peaceful, happy people, there is a love that is livable like you’ve never seen. Like Notebook, Dawson’s Creek, Dear John…
Yes, I’ve been thinking about that ever since I got on the N, Q Orange Line subway from Manhattan to Coney Island. When my friend in NY said, “Come on, stop sunbathing in Central Park, come to the sea to Coney Island, it’s very close to our home,” Coney Island was nothing for me but a place with a sea to dive like a cormorant. The moment I got off that subway, I never guessed that I would step into a place I will never forget. I started walking down the subway, thinking about the frames of the most beautiful love movies in my mind towards the place where we will meet. There is a huge amusement park on the right. When I walk down a little bit, here’s that wooden road in the movies with hot dogs sellers, ice cream and candy shops. People walking in jeans shorts and slipper. Of course a huge beach! The iodine scent of the sea… My eyes are immediately turned to couples. I see people kissing and holding hands. I have a silly smile on my face.
Wherever I look, I make up small stories of love. But wait, there’s something wrong with this frame. What am I doing here? I am going to my friend. To my friend who was on Coney Island with her boyfriend! Suddenly my loneliness hits my face like a strong wave. In front of my eyes lonely people appear like the killer Scream. I can not stop. I see lonely hearts instead of happy loving images. My selectivity in perception turns into from happiness to loneliness.
Man is his own psychologist. After I finished my theraphy, I keep watching people around on the beach (when isolating myself from my friends per meter!). My eyes inevitably turn to the lovers again. Because It’s pure happiness. I recommend you to take your lover to Coney Island. Live your love in a romantic movie with the spirit of that place. I went and saw it. But I ate that ice cream from the cone instead of my lover’s lips. I jumped into the sea, not to the bottom of love. However, in order to live the Coney Island spirit, you should watch the west of the sun while sitting your lover’s lap on the beach. You should eat that hot pepper pineapple from one hand. Maybe your head will be slightly smoky and you will get on the most cheery toy of the amusement park.
That’s how you’ll live Coney Island. You will love it naked. If you are censoring yourself to your lover, you will not step into this magnificent town. Because this place does not like censors. Only naked, pure and plain…
