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i spent every june - september in this greek village growing up. i haven’t been back in 15 years.

being in sicily in october and jumping into the mediterranean to punctuate every part of my day awakened a physical ease in me. it was an archeological feeling, like just being at a certain longitude bestowed a long-withheld inheritance and excavated a history i stopped telling myself to be more like those white kids with their round communion wafers and neat sandwiches with the crusts cut off. i’m not that american brat from the suburbs, i just played one for a while.

i hope to return within the year. for some reason, it feels like i’m going back to retrieve something. i’ll know it when i see it.

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