When Your Hometown Stops Being Home
I no longer know anyone.
I no longer know anyone.
While Boyne City may have the word “city” in its name, it’s quite the antithesis of an urban setting.
Ruins should horrify us—grim testaments to our permanent impermanence
There are lots of things in cities that we don’t notice until they go wrong.
Cities veer in the public imagination from weird and enchanted to crime-ridden and drug-addled.
I won’t miss the commutes.
I’d walk along the lake and listen to the birds, thinking about how strange it was that a man-made peninsula became a spot of natural beauty amongst glass skyscrapers.
My Midwestern self would need enough help to assimilate into the real NYC, let alone one where the Woman in White might attack.
Some people love it. Others feel like Grand Rapids is an inescapable vortex of Dutch bingo. Remi Wolf just helps with some comedic relief.
I can see her potted plants, and I wonder how they survive since she’s never there to water them.