top of page
Writer's picturegiaant

idle town

an authentic look at life in an idle town.

t h e i d l e t o w n w i l l s t a y a s i t s t a y s


this town isn’t very small. in human geo, we learned it was called “urban sprawl” and so called the devil of privilege (we had a really cool teacher). it feels so far away now, both in distance and in time. i live in another country now, and i am no longer in AP human, playing mock UN, or mock Berlin Conference, and getting (not so mock) yelled at about the cultural genocide we committed by picking plots of land based on resources (a really cool teacher). that was 9th grade, back when i sat in mr. rush’s class, and when i met his daughter doing a retest, and when we pretended, back then, that it was okay to not know what you were doing, as long as you knew that you didn’t know what you were doing.


this town isn’t very quiet. i swear you can hear the hymns for neighbourhoods on end, at least it felt like that, sitting in this little church, getting quietly explained what communion was right before it happened. it was a year and a couple weeks ago that i was sitting there, as you missed singing with the choir the last day your favourite youth minister was going to be with yall. it feels so far, both in distance and in time, from when I was standing outside for Palm Sunday and I saw a little ladybug on a man’s jacket in front of me, a little symbol that carried itself throughout my, albeit short, education on religion. i told you i thought it was a sign, that this was supposed to happen, seeing as there weren’t many ladybugs flying around our town. the day we were sitting in the log, and you nearly kissed me, not for who i was then, but who i was way back when, i saw a ladybug land on the playground. you took it as a sign, that it wasn’t supposed to happen. i found heartbreak in the sureness in your voice, you in the quiet “you’re probably right,” i muttered as i moved out of your space. i took a photo of you, curled up in that tunnel. i still have it. i hate that i still have it.


this town isn’t very stagnant. there’s life, i think, in even the quiet days, sitting in the top of a tri-tiered playground (objectively the coolest one within biking distance), wind whipping our hair around, as a storm threatens to roll in, our quiet defiance in being there anyways, in enjoying the weather anyways. tx weather is about as temperamental as i am, and that’s saying something. so we sat there, enjoying the wind, and trying our darn best to love it. and later, in quiet defiance of mother nature, of our parents, of the mf system, as we went to go get sonic, sitting there with our slushies, sipping off one another’s drinks, and loving the company. the day slipped past us, like sweet honey, the air thick and syrupy in the dead of summer. somehow, tx still manages to defy us, and be windy. and somehow, we still manage to defy it, and enjoy the opportunity to be outside without risking sunburns that tan our hids bright red. i took a photo of you then, i still have it. i love that i still have it.


this town isn’t very special. It’s not unique, it doesnt have a thing like austins got that keep austin weird thing, my town is pretty normal. there’s the group of seniors that got caught smoking weed in the parking lot, there’s the theatre geeks who host comedy shows in the catwalks while the mainstage is occupied by the spring musical, performing for an audience of techies, cracking jokes and trying not to laugh because "the audience is right down there, shut up jacob." it’s got everything we need, and it’s just comfortable enough that the kids want to get out. in the walls of these classrooms we have lively debate kids, we have the ppl in the back falling asleep in history, (im really sorry mrs. jones). my town isn’t a one in a million. it’s not even one in ten. but still, when i go back, and i eat at those restaurants, and i see the places i went on dates, the places i went out with friends, the places that we claimed, as if we had any claim over them. we pretended. it was enough. i still drive down the highways and take pictures of the rain, and i listen to the thud on the roofs, and i meet my friends at our places, and we carve new places in the couple days im back, and we talk about our futures and how we’re gonna get out. we pretend, for a bit, that it’s not hard, turning away from this place. it is enough, for now.


e v e r y o n e i l o v e s i n t h i s p l a c e [ i n o u r i d l e t o w n ]

0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

8:57

overture

留言


bottom of page