I get like this a few times a year.

I can never pinpoint the exact reason,
and I sort of hope I never do;
I enjoy these hypernostalgic trips,
even if a certain amount of sadness
and longing is the price of admission.

If I figured out why these feelings
well up from time to time,
they probably would
stop coming, and
I’d lose touch with
my formative geek years:
the most complicated and
uncomplicated — and most important —
years of my life.

— Wil Wheaton, extract from in the heat of the night the animals scream.

Published in: on September 13, 2006 at 7:46 pm  Comments (1)  

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One CommentLeave a comment

  1. I stumbled onto this post, and I wanted to tell you how honored I am to have something I wrote considered to be “found poetry.”

    I’m very touched, because poetry is something I’ve never had the nerve to intentionally attempt.

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