(no subject)

[shadesong]

Today I had my last JavaMonkey chai.
And my last Jake's Ice Cream.

And I hugged static_eddie and irana for a long, long time.

Atlanta is not my home. Hell, I've spun a whole comic off the concept of Home: "Have you ever felt homesick for a place you've never been?"

And Atlanta has never felt like home, except in that Adam is my home. Atlanta has no spirit, no soul, and I think that's why what "community" there is here is so toxic. There's nothing underlying it to nurture.

Atlanta is not my home. But I've lived here five years, and in that time, I've carved out tiny chunks of it to call home. JavaMonkey... all of downtown Decatur.

I may never be there again.

I will take my last walk here, and I will turn back to my packing. In a day and a half, I'll be on my way to Boston.

I have never lived up north.

But Boston has a soul.

And I have been done here for far too long.

And I won't miss this city, but I will miss those little chunks of home, be they places or people.

Comments

[grntserendipity.livejournal.com]

I read this, and completely empathize with you. I just moved from a dead city to one with such pride and vibrance it takes my breath away sometimes. I do still miss where I was though, the few things that made it tolerable for the four years I lived there while in college. I don't think it gets any easier, either.

[m0usegrrl.livejournal.com]

::fierce hugs::

[cissa.livejournal.com]

For me, Boston isn't home.

I'm glad it is for you, though, and that you're achieving it. *hugs*

[slipjig.livejournal.com]

Home is waiting for you.

[wakingdreaming.livejournal.com]

Hey, your moving people aren't from Maine, are they? I know a guy from Maine, who works for a moving company, who is leaving for Atlanta tomorrow morning to move someone from there up to some thus-far-unspecified place in New England.

[shadesong.livejournal.com]

Nope! We're U-Hauling.

[zarhooie.livejournal.com]

“Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end….”

[siliconshaman.livejournal.com]

I've often thought that we bring to life these dead places, that by sheer dint of will we breath vibrance and soul into them, nuture it, and let it grow... mostly because so many places nowadays are dead, lacking as you say, that essential something that nurtures them.

I wonder what'll happen to those places, these nascent spirits, that you've created? I hope they survive your absence and grow, finding and connecting to other people.

I'm sure Boston will welcome you though.

[besideserato.livejournal.com]

That is so much much how I feel about so many places I have lived. Here is to the wanderers and to finding home in new places, soulless and not. [Hug]

[phantom_wolfboy]

I moved out of the city I was born and raised in, 15 years ago last August, and I can't imagine living anywhere else now. You're right; some places are home and others aren't. You're lucky that you have a home that you can take with you as well as the one you've found (Adam as well as Boston).

[whitecrow0.livejournal.com]

Trent Reznor said Atlanta was soulless, also. o.O

[shadesong.livejournal.com]

See? Listen to me and Trent Reznor. We know stuff. :)

[whitecrow0.livejournal.com]

I am so in love with you now. Trent Reznor did it. :}

[whitecrow0.livejournal.com]

P.S. Did I ever tell you that I used to live in Framingham? I spent about a year in the Boston area when I was four-ish. But I do remember some of it. My father was mostly unemployed at the time so he was really grumpy but he did go in - either part-time or as a volunteer; I do not remember - to the ASPCA offices. He took me with him a time or two. I also remember dribbling popsicle juice all over my shirt in the summer. He was going to do something to discipline me but my mom intervened and I had to help wash his yellow VW Beetle instead.
We lived in a yellow duplex right across the street from a cemetary. I used to hang out in my dad's upstairs office all of the time to "watch the parades."
I also went over there to play. I liked the cemetary. I remember flying a kite that I made in preschool. It was made of paper and I'd had trouble with the scissors, so instead of a diamond shape, I was trying to get the wind to lift up a two-dimensional light blue chicken leg.

I got poison ivy in the back yard. And I actually visited the city proper. I remember the Old North Church and ... the Playboy club. Hehe.

[metaphorge.livejournal.com]

I'm very glad that you're going home (about TIME!), though I hate that I'll be missing you by a scant two days. Oh well, to Boston I will have to go.