Small towns do that to you; strip your mind of any motivation to go leave this town, any dreams that might take you farther than the snowy limits of the northern mining town. Soon people start to think there’s nothing more to the world then the people and jobs and lifestyle of the north. That’s why people get stuck up there for generations and generations. I was never one of those people; I’d spent some time in a big city with my family and when I came back to do high school I was too big of a fish for this frozen pond of apathetic guppies. This small northern town couldn’t contain my dreams and my goals and my arrogant teenage self couldn’t shake the feeling that I would never belong in this hell-hole of a place whose only desire was to beat me to the ground and make me feel like I wasn’t worth leaving.
All that time I had a metaphoric middle finger on my forehead, glaring at my world, telling them I wouldn’t be here long and that I couldn’t wait to leave. There’s so much more to life than this town, I wanted to scream at all the drugged children, drunken idiots, and teenage moms. I was only slightly put at ease knowing that more of the outside world was mine if they were all stuck here.
(an excerpt from something I'm working on lately)