Nostalgia revisited

When I come home, Albuquerque becomes something more than a city. It becomes an archive of every memory, angst, and growing pain of my adolescence. I think adolescence is one of the most hilarious concepts to grace (or should I say, awkwardly accompany) humanity. But that could be explored later.

I went for a drive tonight because the sun was calling my name. I needed to sit in quiet moving solitude surrounded by the glowing basin that is Albuquerque at sunset. Tomorrow is a huge, determining day for my future. But it felt ironically satisfying to drive along my therapeutic path of highways and windy side roads I used to take when I was sixteen and lost. Or seventeen and needed to cry and wail out awful top 40. This drive was so symbolic for me as I chuckled past the place I used to park to “see the view” with high school infatuations and accelerate ritually at the same spot I always did when the road started to tip downhill. Nostalgia is a funny and comforting thing. At this point in time, I am unsure of everything. But when I look back at my past, I can’t help but be comforted knowing that I used to feel the same way and somehow managed to get to where I am now. Those places I drove past, whether they represented an embarrassing, sad, bitter, or elated time in my life are now splashes of color in the hot mess of artwork that is me. I felt absolutely revitalized revisiting these splashes in the delicious Albuquerque sunset and know that they only make me brighter as I move forward.


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