A sense of place

This place is interchangeable with every other suburb in the upper midwest, or the rest of the country, for that matter.  There's no soul.  There's nothing.
I was trying to think of something to do here.  What do people do for fun, anyway?  They go shopping?  They go smoke weed in the woods?  What else is there to do?  This is how I got started doing creative stuff, I think.  I didn't love it so much as I was thankful for something to do.
Being back here makes me feel like I'm in high school, in the worst way possible.  It's all the terrible stuff (being bored, hating everything) without any of the good stuff (seeing your friends every day at school, quizbowl).  It's odd, isn't it?  I'm not saying that I love Grand Rapids, as a place, because deep down, I don't.  It's a stepping stone, a stop on the way to someplace big.
It's motivating, at the very least.  A few days here and you're willing to try as hard as you can to get out.

It's alright though, I have all the commas I need.  I'm going to watch The Virgin Suicides sometime soon and write this damn novel.  And find some people to hang out with.

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