In My Mind I Still Need A Place To Go

Clementine is the city that sits in the corner and never begs to be accepted into the middle. It is most fascinating when unoccupied, or when there is just one person, trying to find their way, asking what gives voice to mercy. Is it the stranger who leaves hope behind, because they are finished with it, because they believe you need it more. Because they know you are going home to no one and you are still searching for something to make it all worthwhile. Or is mercy the things you don't say, the words you forget when it means the most.

Visiting Clementine is like looking for hope in the tiny uninflected patch of sky that covers the universe. It is thinking of every city that came before it and realising it's like nothing you've ever seen. It is ignoring the green rolling hills and the tangerine sky and admitting that you are lost. That you've been lost a long time and you've come for forgiveness, you've come to find it in Clementine.

The shaded buildings hide the sun in Clementine. It is dark so you can find your way, not because you have lost it. Leaving Clementine is like sitting on the edge of the world and not caring whether you fall or fly, because there is nothing at the edge, it's all behind you now, back in Clementine where it all began. It is questioning what it all meant, because surely it meant something. It is forgiveness and accepting what's been left for you, because for as long as you can remember it's always felt like nothing.

Clementine is the city that reminds you of the girl you fell in love with, the one you left behind. The girl you've spent the rest of your life looking for.