It's been a while since I've walked the streets at night. I do miss the semi-quiet embrace of the dark. It's almost like a velvet blanket, wrapping me close. But oh how it makes me feel even more lost.

The rows of houses seem so comforting, but it reaches the uncanny valley quite quickly. It rolls down the mountainside, ever destined to that floor where embrace becomes envelopment.

Yet I sigh. One cannot let these kind of things get too close to the soul. I like to think of this place as a cartographic maze; a labyrinth which spirals into its self, but cannot seem to find a way out. The identity of the suburban town does not retreat after completing its journey to its core. It simply keeps looping in circles unable to make its final, defining connection.

And so I am stuck here, listless, wandering and observing. I know there is more for the eye to see, but it is difficult trying to live in the happy medium. A friend told me quite quaintly: "It's a strange town. There is no access to life as in the urban area, nor is there the solitude of a rural area. It truly is a 'sub'-urban area, with a happy medium for many, but an off-kilter balance that cannot swing in either direction for us."