Which is weird and kinda’ shit, because it’s pretty much emotional landmines everywhere you look after moving around a bit.

I was born in one city, then my folks moved to another town, a couple of years after that I was passed around between mum and her folks, who retired back to the countryside, then I eloped to the other end of the country with Uni, then I moved back closer to my childhood area, yet still a different city, now I’ve moved back in my Uni city.

And everywhere’s full of streets laden with harsh memories, places which have no meaning when alone, old beaten paths, whiffs of better days. But at least I never feel out of place, anywhere, as I never relate my position in the world to the people around me, but to the place itself. People come and go, the streets’ll pretty much still be there.

I have two untrodden regions left, my native region (which is boring, tbph), and, supposedly, the most chaotic one. I’ve been pretty much everywhere in this country at least in passing, but these are the two in which I’ve never spent any considerable amount of time. And, no, I’m not counting the first three months of my life, spent’em in a hospital with a urinary tract infection, there’s nothing to be remembered there. But I can feel my engine’s revving down and craving a break.