I've been listening to My Town by Buck 'o' Nine on repeat for the past hour and a half and the chorus is firmly planted in my head, but it's the last verse that's causing tears to spring to my eyes.

i hear the sound of a skateboard rolling down my backstreet / reggae music coming from the neighbor across from me / as time ticks by / i never stop to ask, i never wonder why / my soul is sound / when i'm in my hometown / no place i'd rather be

And I begin to wonder what it is about this place that holds such power over me, or if it's the mere fact that this is where I was born and this is where I've spent 23 of my 24 years.

I start feeling nostalgia for things I haven't lost. I can't imagine what it would be like to fully adapt to someplace new.

I crave it, and it scares me.

Fuck this, it's not even something to think about fully yet. I'm going to listen to some music and knit. And then I'm going to bed. And I probably won't wake up in time to post the books to the two kiddies who have requested them, but to you two kiddies: I've got them wrapped up and addressed, if I don't post them tomorrow, I'll do it this weekend. I promise!

Kisses to my Poppy to whom I haven't shown nearly enough cyber-love lately. Hope you feel better in 5-7 days. *wink*