Random Pips

It’s the middle of the night right now and I can’t sleep. Not that I’m really doing anything about it since I’m writing here at the moment. Hey, would you say it’s overly weird that the desire to write often likes to seize me at random moments when almost everyone in or near my time zone should be sleeping? I don’t know…that’s why I’m asking you. Well, just chalk it up to one of my little eccentricities then, I guess.

So I just returned from a short break back to my hometown. That’s why I haven’t written here in over a week. It’s quite difficult to find the time to hole up in an Internet café when you’ve got a million things you want to reconnect with. I found I really missed the city - more than I could ever have imagined.

You know, you never truly realize how much you miss home until you’ve gone back and actually licked the air or tasted the ground. Well, figuratively - you wouldn’t want to do that in the part of town I grew up in. I mean, even though I call a different town “home” now, the feeling still sticks. It’s bizarre…it’s like every time I leave a place I’ve become attached to, some minuscule morsel of my soul detaches itself and clings on to the place so that I never really feel complete until I return once in awhile.

Needless to say, I was a bit glum when I had to leave my hometown and go back home. Wait, that didn’t make sense. Hmm…whatever. Where was I? Glum…yes, I felt glum…but content as well. Okay, how is that even possible? Because if I felt glum leaving a piece of myself behind and now I’m content again, that would mean I found…oh.

So…I guess this settles the huge question mark I’ve always had over my head since I moved here: I’ve genuinely grown attached to this town enough that another minuscule morsel of my soul now clings to it whenever I leave.

That’s quite an epiphany to sleep on because I never thought it would be possible. I’m gonna need to call this a night. Give me some time. I’ll fully grasp it when the morning comes.

Good night.