keir

keir n. an ill-fated attempt to reenact a beloved memory years later, returning to a place that once felt like home, only to find it now feels uncannily off, like walking through a wax museum of your own childhood.

2026-02-21 21:32 I spent five years in Santa Cruz getting my degree. I moved away for a job, and a few months ago I ventured back for an interview. I saw all the old sights. I saw my old house with the dent in the corner of the building from when my neighbor accidentally backed into it, the old corner store I used to go to at 1AM for tamales with green sauce, the incredibly overpriced pizza place across the street with the ping-pong table in a room that was far too small for a ping-pong table, the burger place I worked at for the first few months out of college when I couldn’t find a job, the Little Free Libraries whose books are still on my shelf. I’m not sure what I expected, but I was surprised to feel nothing but a distant sense of nostalgia.

Before getting there, I was excited about the job and about possible moving back to Santa Cruz. A chance to live there again, but do it right - more correctly, somehow - and appreciate the beautiful beaches and forests that I had previously taken for granted. When I got there, though, it felt like watching a TV show after the end credits had rolled - the story was over, but someone had left the cameras on.

I didn’t take the offer and instead decided to take a job in a different, new city. Sometimes it’s best to keep the chapter closed.