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Somewhere in West Texas

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I’ve spent the past few days visiting my mom and grandmother in a very small West Texas town. I’ve been to Tahoka many times over the span of my life.

There’s not much to do around here. I used to remember walking to the downtown drug store where my grandmother worked. That vintage memory of getting a glass Coke bottle from a vending machine after thumbing in a few quarters. But much of the town is lost to time.

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Now in my mid thirties. This place feels different. In ways it’s a time capsule. Life from a century ago has been preserved in a layer of dust and rust. There’s a sense of a connection to the past. A simpler time.

Life today feels like we are moving fast toward humanities undoing. Being in this town in some ways feels post apocalyptic. As if I’m seeing my life but in some worn down future state. It’s humbling. It’s freeing. I’m trying to soak in every minute of it.

My Grandfather
My Grandfather
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With the smell of pecan pies in the air, I will sit in my grandmas kitchen one more time before pushing out further west to New Mexico tomorrow. I’m surprised to find myself not wanting to leave. I think I’ve found where the universe lets time pause or at the very least slows it way way down.

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