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O Captain My Captain · 01-05-2008, 09:04 PM

Ok, here's my secret: I miss the place where I grew up. I miss the people. I mean, it's not that I miss being a kid, so much, but I just miss WHERE I grew up. I miss the river, and throwing leaves in with my mom. I miss walking through the park. I miss the swing sets, and playground. I miss my house. I miss my neighbors. I miss the way the people weren't perfect, but they didn't have to be. I miss walking to the end of the city line, and feeling so good about it. I miss the trails. I miss how friendly people were. I miss how ok things were. I've lived here for 4 and 1/2 years now, and I'm just realizing it's not home. I want to go back. I want to go back to laughing with Erin in her driveway. I want to go back to a long driveway, and beat up garage. I want to go back to living by a park, and not being allowed to walk on certain streets because, well, it was dangerous.

I hate it here. I hate how boring it is, and how stuck-up the people are. I hate the fact that I'm alone here, and there I was NEVER alone. This place isn't home. These people... I don't like them. I hate it. I hate all of it. For the first time in 4 years, I just want to go home. I know what that is, now, and I miss it.

...

Sorry. Had to get that out. I'm PMSing.

01-05-2008, 09:04 PM	#931 (permalink)
O Captain My Captain Registered User Join Date: Jun 2006 Location: New York Gender: Posts: 8,665 Total Points: 182,404.00 Donate	Ok, here's my secret: I miss the place where I grew up. I miss the people. I mean, it's not that I miss being a kid, so much, but I just miss WHERE I grew up. I miss the river, and throwing leaves in with my mom. I miss walking through the park. I miss the swing sets, and playground. I miss my house. I miss my neighbors. I miss the way the people weren't perfect, but they didn't have to be. I miss walking to the end of the city line, and feeling so good about it. I miss the trails. I miss how friendly people were. I miss how ok things were. I've lived here for 4 and 1/2 years now, and I'm just realizing it's not home. I want to go back. I want to go back to laughing with Erin in her driveway. I want to go back to a long driveway, and beat up garage. I want to go back to living by a park, and not being allowed to walk on certain streets because, well, it was dangerous. I hate it here. I hate how boring it is, and how stuck-up the people are. I hate the fact that I'm alone here, and there I was NEVER alone. This place isn't home. These people... I don't like them. I hate it. I hate all of it. For the first time in 4 years, I just want to go home. I know what that is, now, and I miss it. ... Sorry. Had to get that out. I'm PMSing. __________________ Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein There is a place where the sidewalk ends And before the street begins, And there the grass grows soft and white, And there the sun burns crimson bright, And there the moon-bird rests from his flight To cool in the peppermint wind. Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black And the dark street winds and bends. Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow, And watch where the chalk-white arrows go To the place where the sidewalk ends. Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow, And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go, For the children, they mark, and the children, they know The place where the sidewalk ends.