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"i love my town" and other self affirming statements

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How do you say "I love my town" in six different languages? How do you declare that you love every part of who you were, are, and will be, even if those parts are broken, dark, or strange?

"I love my town," you say, repeating it again and again. "I love my town. I love my town," and every time it means something different.

I love myself.

I love my words.

I love who I am going to be tomorrow.

I love the people, though they scare me.

I love the place I'm from, though it’s not a place everyone wants to call home.

"I love my town."

You say it like a mantra, like you're a drowning man gasping for air. If you say it enough times, the world will hear you and respond. If you say it enough times, you won't go under again. Because you know what it’s like to not love your town, you know the darkness of the icy water and what waits underneath.

"I love my town."

Say it, say it, say it again. Say it like you mean it. Say it like it's the only thing that means something. Say it like you can’t say anything else.

You prayed for drought and got a desert. You prayed for breath and got a glow cloud. You wanted this, this strange town, this dry heat. You wanted to be away from the storm. And now there's sandstorms instead of rain, now there's women in the walls and angels and lights that everyone can see. You see the world for what it is but that's all right, because the rest of the town sees it too.

"I love my town."

And maybe it wasn't your town once, maybe it belonged to someone else, but it doesn't matter now. It's your voice on the air, it's your voice wishing safety to those in the night.

It's your voice, saying, "Goodnight, Night Vale, goodnight."