Rotten Bastards

It's a blog. It's a way of life. It's many things in between.


Thursday, 10 May 2007

Going home is easy

City, town or suburb.

There's a certain vibe. A feeling. An odour. A look.

If you've spent most of your youth or childhood in one place it becomes etched into your psyche. For good or ill, it's true.

Far off places may beckon. Ages may pass. But all it takes is one trigger to bring it back.

A vision, a sound, a taste, an aroma.

The smell of fresh cut grass and lawnmower exhaust and all of a sudden you're thirteen again. You're hot, you're sweaty, you're pissed off.

The perfume of that girl who let you kiss her. The taste of her lips.

Ice cream, melting all over your hand. Bought from the back of a huge pink van with a window in the side.

The smell of the hot asphalt melting underneath you as you hop barefoot from one leg to the other. Until you give the ice cream man his due and you run off to cool you feet on the freshly cut lawn.

1 comment:

Tomby Stone said...

Thanks man, very atmospheric. At least now I have an idea what it might have been like to grow up somewhere nice and/or to have any pleasant memories.