Describe your hometown, Veeky Forums

Describe your hometown, Veeky Forums

The orginal Indian name of the town translates to, "Mudhole, full of assholes."

My hometown, c'est l'hiver

Whitewashed homes stand in the narrow shore-line, shaded by the pine.
Stark rosemary grows with sweet thyme, on dusty walls where small lizards hide.
Fig trees offer their fruits to the sun, incense children dance to the Indian drum.
Here Odysseus charmed for Circe fell.
Her perfume still lingers, and also her spell.

It has about 4000 citizens and is surrounded by forrest. there is a big hill where kids go sleding in the winter and where you can make bonfires in summer. we also have a small river. perfect for skinny dipping at night. we even washed some gold there once!
itms small but has everything you'll need. two little grocery stores, a school, a library, a trainstation, a public pool, a few playgrounds, a tiny lake where you can feed ducks and huge fishes, one where the frogs lay their spawn and even an indoor go kart track.
people are reserved, calm and correct. but that's ok. it's what you expect if you live here.
most houses are old farm houses that got renovated. some are even under preservation order.
the structure is chaotic since it's a small village that grew slowly.
i went to school here, moved away but came back again because i missed it. i really like living here.

A grey, boring french suburub with police brutality and drug dealing.

Bakersfield.

hello neighbor

Gay. We're literally being taken over by Muslims because 95% of couples are gay. I think we might be a target of a Government experiment or something.

Open hill country with a few main streets, lots of old motels converted into shops. Big lovely Victorian farmhouses, some kept up but a lot falling into disrepair. A few were grown over entirely. It was scenic, especially in Fall. There were lots of fields and quiet cemeteries.

All of this stood in contrast to the awful people who lived there. The division was obvious: there were the haves, and the have nots. You either got a brand new car for your 16th or you borrowed one until you were 25. I don't know how the town ended up that way. There were the cookie cutter McMansion suburbs with stupid names like "Oak Park" or "Autumn Lake Ridge." which had no lake. The kids who lived in these places were rotten.

By middle school they were fully aware of their status. But apparently having good looks, good grades, and lots of money isn't enough. They had to kick you in the hallway, they had to knock over your lunch tray, they had to leave notes in your locker, encouraging you to commit suicide. Anyone who wasn't them was wrong and their parents felt the same, and the staff felt the same, and you had no recourse because of "zero tolerance" policies.

Boys were easier to put up with. When you passed them in the hall you could see their faces screwed up, working on an insult. You had time to pretend indifference before they passed. With girls it was harder. They left the notes, and they always knew the right words to bring you down.

It was almost surreal, how beautiful the town was compared to the people who infested it. I'm sure this experience is common in small towns, which made it seem worse somehow. I moved away a week after graduation.

Sun, black people, sweat.

t. Certifiable moron.

Not reading all that shit.

tl;dr reeee rich normies.

Wet.

Sounds like where I'm from. What state?

I'm not American.

I live in an old Irish town dissected by a fairly busy road between highways. It has rarely progressed due to the older generation controlling the council and declining any chances to make anything that could jeopardize this oversized retirement home. People here are split into a fairly rigid dichotomy. You have the old people who do their zombie walk down the street every morning. Then you have the youth who end up here because it is the least drug influenced school in the area. They either are the archetypal country folk who have known each other their whole lives and never venture outside of their comfortable ignorance, or they are the self proclaimed rebels who listen to their choice of overproduced metal or generic shallow hip hop. These kids are the ones who want out. They have pipe dreams of becoming whichever sort of idol is more contemporary. The majority end up on drugs and in jail.

We have 3 major attractions. One, the high school, which after a freak tornado shredded half the town, was rebuilt into a surprisingly modern establishment. There is the gas station that half of us go to once a day. If you want a job here, this is where you work. Then there is a racing museum, but it's not worth going on about. Just imagine a middle school science fair filled with trifold cardboard presentations on lunch tables.

Sure we have a pizza store with it's easily sexualized name "Tossed 'n' Sauced". However after the owner became an alcoholic the food all tastes like the same awful wet sock. Hence the name "feetza". Other than that it's the same small town situation. Liquor store, railroads, churches, etc.

This town is a comforting death trap. It is in so many ways like the drugs its inhabitants take. Beautiful at first, then mind numbingly boring and detaining.

Cheerfully miserable

Always awake, full of aliens. It's filthy, but the good kind of filth; the kind that inspires to do something about your constant deceptions.

There are barely any natives here, most of the people come from the south; they only stop for a while, they always keep going north.

There's no middle class here, there are poor and there are wealthy. The youth suffers, it's fake and the elderly embittered.

Our turist attraction is mostly prostitution and gambling, but its shamed by hypocrites. The smart people care for it and embrace it.

Being a junkie is cheap in here, and it shows.

Old European beauty in communist dirt and post-soviet and architecture

I live in a town. A town that never seems to die, A town that has been crippled too many times to see the light of a better time. A town famous for it's small quaint New England history smashed in between the cold waters of the Atlantic and the healthy Appalachians. Our hands stained with coal, Cauterized with steel, Torn apart again with new flesh. Arctic winds sweep us off our feet and freeze the life of the city to a standstill. Yet every year the dead reawaken themselves and the people lose their shell, Springtime comes. The summer falls upon us with glee and too much happiness for some, New blood swarms the buildings and century old fortresses in the south. The fall comes with joy and songs, Beers are made, Fish are hauled in the thousands, Music spreads across the hills and lakes. The entire town is an orange cultural icon, Entire mountains seem to glow with appreciation and hope. Churches are packed on Sundays, Children finally can enjoy themselves. The entire island begins it's golden age. Then dives straight back into winter.

Yet it still has been dying all this time, Albeit slowly. But less New blood running amok. Less people staying, More abandoned houses. Old culture keepers dying, New ones living differently. Smaller communities dying. The wealthy leaving, The poor coming. The big goons in the West taking more and more and leaving less. It's dying all right, But it isn't dead yet.

this except it's cold

a cute suburb of a hopeless canadian city.
a comfortable place for immigrants, a true bedrock for dreamers.
an actual green city, filled with woods and parks and like, two lakes.

honestly i love my hometown.

Capital of the movement.

Derelict is the word I would use. It truly is a relic of the past and, by the looks of it, is currently thrashing about in its death throes. Those misguided enough to breathe life back into it either end up biting the dust themselves (oh god, the dust. So much dust!) or end up tugging on the legs of the proverbial hanging man in an attempt to hasten his passage to the other side. Every once in a while you'll hear fireworks. Though someone might be celebrating something, do not assume that the people are happy. Only three kinds of natives exist: those who left, those who want to leave and those who want to die here. Those desperate to came here of their own volition are just that: desperate. The city is bisected by quite a wide river. It, as befitting of the coronary artery of this dump, runs with trash, chemical waste, and dead vermin. Word from the old-timers is that it used to be beautiful and that children used to swim in it and play on the banks. It's unlikely that that's ever going to happen, as the pH of the water must be around 2.2 at this point.

Wow, so I can be edgy when I want to, huh? Honestly, it isn't that bad. Yeah, it's slowly being depopulated and every once in a while and old, soviet apartment block crumbles. Could be worse, right?

no pub no shop no nothing

a crumbling castle in a field surrounded by cows and cowpats and bright cheerily explanative laminated boards for low expectation tourists to glance vacantly at in mild interest before driving elsewhere for a pint

a scattering of rotting old houses filled with rotting old people and a dash of renovated old barns filled with rich retired cunts from london

a nearby hill with mountain bike trails that earnest lycrasuited twats tear to litterstrewn shreds for the locals to rage at

my parent's house, a slow sprawl of black timber and whitewashed plaster smeared down a hill that contains my childhood

It used to be nice but now it's covered in a post capitalistic, massproduced modernist grime which makes everything feel soulless. My city is dressed in a pus that came from an alternative to both capitalism and socialism, it's hard to describe but during the winter it's like being stuck in a silent film, flickering until summer comes around to remind us that we still exist on earth.

>an alternative to both capitalism and socialism
where the fuck do you live
christmas town?

pic related

Used to be nice, or so says mom; then urbanization came. Now it is a decadent city infested by low class scum, but with really pretty houses wherever companies haven't managed to erect concrete cubes. I have the hope that the bad stuff is but the ugly chrysalis and some day a more or less decent city will come out.

see At first glance you'd say, "Sweden? Isn't that the rape capital of Europe, kekeke." But underneath the memes, Sweden is very unique. Imagine a Roy Andersson movie with it's grey, sickly palette, add a state enforced capitalistic osmosis of idiomatic culture with political ideology and viola.

Now, think of a government owned hospital, mustard yellow walls, floor smelling of germicide, flyers plastered everywhere. Empty, soulless and very kafkaesque.

That is what modern day Sweden is like, faux bourgeoisie and empty, there's no one to blame but everything for the death of our culture in this country which cultural value is equivalent to that of a google stock image.

A brutalist mistake built on a brief boom of Coal and Steel production, abandoned by everyone with dignity ever since

>At first glance you'd say, "Sweden? Isn't that the rape capital of Europe, kekeke
No at first glance I'd say ">Sweden\n>not capitalist".

Hills and forests one side, endless plains another, ruins of empires long gone below, the sun ever shining above. Smell of linden in the air.

more pics please, love your hometown :)

It is, but the urbanization that came with the 20th century made it clear that we had been dead for a very long time, which wasn't as obvious when every still felt swedish.

A small Town. The citizens are not the smartest, but they like Beer and Costumes in February. Most of the homes are grey with simple red roofs, among pale trees and green fences. It is a small town. But when you reach the last street nature itself rises her snowy chest and lowers to the west. The Horizon around me, standing on the 'hairy hill', is dosed with Concrete plants, like postmodern castles. It is a small town, with big cliffs surrounding the querry and big hordes of sheep prune the gras. you wander between the smell of cooked pork and burning pot. Fuck i miss it.

it's shit n boring

Ma ville, c'est un enculeur

so how was it back in the 1800s mr (ms) centenarian

sounds interesting, please tell me more

an alien world, consisting of nothing but pain

It's ugly, but honest and the people here are also ugly, but honest. The city in its current shape only exists because people poured in from all corners of the country and beyond to get work, now that the work is no longer here, the people are leaving too.

Sweden during the later half of the 19th century still had it's own idiosyncractic culture which lingered on for quite some time before becoming what it is today. It was falling apart during the 1990s (Which could be blamed on the economic collapse) but the face of Sweden, which it lost twenty years ago, has not been recovered.

photos please

>tfw born and raised in a eastern-european shithole
This city is an open psychiatric ward. A schizophrenic mixture of genuinely beautiful 19th century architecture and soulless 20th century commie blocks. The facades are falling apart and the streets are dirty - a reflection of the soul of its inhabitants.

A quarter kilometer away from the roman capital stands a flat empty but beautiful town. Surrounded by both a living and a dead river it feels isolated from the world and the afternoons end in a glowing melted red line the ending of a melancholic movie about moving on with your life after cancer. Trough the ages you will fill this ancient vase with memories and experiencies that will morph what seemed colorless into a deep blue or a bright red. Quiet people whose lives start outside the town, empty child parks but eyesfilled windows. There is no air but the rumours and whispers of a big unknown family that spams from the theatrical mill to the wild horses near the abandoned factories of better times. A motherless nest, an open jail that I feel/fear I will never leave for Ive grown accustomed to its bricks. It only knows hot days of summers and frozen days of winter. A comfortable boring static place.

Amsterdam, it fucking sucks. The government is tearing down centuries-old housing to build underground public transportation and erecting disgusting yuppie-friendly domiciles while being pressured by the EU to close coffeeshops and brothels, meanwhile the only guy who seems to give a shit is a retarded MAVO-educated simpleton trying to piggyback off of the Brexit and Trump. I fucking hate my country and the people in it, and I'm surrounded by the 1%, meanwhile we've got nutjobs from the Islamic and religious community trying to convert everyone to their moronic ideology and a steady stream of "provinciaaltjes" e.g. provincials moving into tiny apartments above historic cafes, then complaining about noise pollution and successfully closing said establishment thus perpetuating the fucking cycle.

...

>In the daytime, San Antonio is more Mexican than American, but not quite genuine Mexican, but picture postcard Mexican. –Graham Greene, novelist

A small community where most of the world's gold comes from, yet this place hardly glitters

Johannesburg?

Flat, grey, and decaying, but still somehow more authentic than 99% of American cities. Also the weather sucks.

OK here you go. I as a white man am afraid of my physical safety 24/7.

>Hint: there's many plausible places but one obvious one. Also, am burger

It's a small place for dreams to be put to sleep, and the mistakes of your life to seem like a distant memory. Comfy and far away from anything that matters, a nice place to slowly rot away.

Johannesburg, South Africa

It's in the western united states
Nevada

They call it the Emerald City - after the city in Oz. But I've never really understood why. If I had to choose a gemstone I would choose the Sapphire, because everything in this city is blue. Deep blue sky, deep blue harbour, deep blue buildings. By the water on a sunny day the place shines like a gemstone too and exudes a brilliant vivacity and youthfulness. The place feels young and creative, generative - hopeful, not dull and decaying like those old European cities. Everything is shiny but not in a frenetic ADHD kind of way, but in a calm and confident and optimistic sense - and yet, the people here are far from calm or confident or optimistic. When my parents moved here in the 80s they said the people were happier: they seemed to take an pride is their casualness, their laconic ease but now everyone is tense. Everyone complains, no one is ever satisfied - we could be better, we could be bigger, no - we're too big. I think, as we've grown, the weight of potential is dragging us down. We're unsure where we sit on the world stage - are we a world city, or a pretender?

On the outside we exude light bright and gleaming but it's all to distract from an unshakeable hollowness.

Close, but I was referring to the San Francisco bay area.

What's the difference anyways

I come from a small town in Eastern Europe with a population of around 10 thousand people. Weird in the sense that we have a disproportionate amount of people getting by doing illegal things. Starting from petty crime and cheating on taxes to making drugs and pimping whores. There is literally nothing here, an unbelievably boring place with no opportunities. Most people who have to chance leave this place behind immediately.

love it honestly

It could be depressing to live there for a long time, but it's beautiful.

A cold barren wasteland that saps the life and joy from it's impoverished residents.

Sudbury?

Honestly, I hope you all sink. I dislike dutch people, in all my interactions with them they acted arrogantly. A bunch of ugly, lanky fucking morons speaking a disgusting sounding language.

Switzerland by any chance?

Almost, it's Upstate NY.

The sun doesn't rise

But the Catskills are great

A considerably large town. But I grew up in a very special part. The town itself is right out of Atlanta, but my neighborhood was to the south inside Atlanta territory. Full of soccer moms and rich little shits that had enough money to put it where their mouth was. My grandmother raised me to never be like those children, and in despised them my whole time there. I tryed to be friends with them, but they were terribly boring people, with nothing but money and Apple to talk about. In my teenage years they became pot smoking sex driven meme lords that tryed to be friends with me, but I couldn't bring myself to like them.

Now they're going to be much more successful than me, and I'm on Veeky Forums.

I don't live in the idyllic part of upstate, it's mostly heroin addicts and rednecks here.

You've described Atlantic Canada right there. Except swap heroin with Oxycontin and rednecks with unemployed people.

i was a fat, indolent kid addicted to my computer. the suburbs north of chicago were full of telecom execs who knew nothing of coding (of which my father was one) or people with trades (HVAC, electricians, etc) who had just enough money to afford an above-ground pool. the dentists and orthodonists were very proud of their in-ground pools—despite it snowing heavily outside the winter months—as were their rotten, fat kids.

i had a bike, but never dared to ride it outside of the labyrinthian neighborhood. i had a large pond and a swampland in the backyard, but rarely ventured into it. instead, i spent my spring breaks feeding the koi in my small, constructed pond.

the closest thing i had to a friend was an energetic autist several years my elder. he and his three siblings were homeschooled by their conservative, religious parents. he liked sonic and had nintendo consoles; i liked my xbox more. when i was 5, i lied to my parents and told them that he taught me to say "fuck," even when i learned it on the internet. the entire street heard his howls as his father mercilessly beat him on a bright summer day.

it's no surprise that, though i grew up there, i never considered it my hometown. at 13, i went to boarding school and adopted the rural, liberal south as my new home and identity.

Iglooniggers gtfo

My dad goes there on business and he doesn't really like it. He said some people yelled at him for killing some bug and called him a murderer.

Chilly mountain town filled with pickup trucks, stray dogs, and yard sales.

My hometown has a big enough population that it is considering becoming a city.
Not too pleasant a place really.

Suburb of a Capital. I was the only white person for a long time but gentrification is in full swing now. The BAM is never as crowded as the shoe store next to it. All of our stores have been sold out of spray tan for the last 5 days.

Its very different right now.
It changed so much and i didn't keep up with it, while it was transforming into this new thing i was far away. But now i'm here, visiting my parents. I never kinda liked this city, but its streets always had a nostalgic feeling on me, this didn't changed. Every corner, every shop, the newsboy, the woman at the library, the place i used to eat pastry with one of the guys i loved the most (not homo), the heat of those wide streets and its absolute sluggishness, these didn't changed.
Its hard to explain what changed if you never saw the city, if you didn't lived there for most part of your life and if the most important people you ever met lived there. One thing, though, i can say for sure: This time I walked alone on these streets.

My father always described it best, on those long drives home from here and there - "Like stepping into a Grimm's Fairy Tale." Silent roads composing a quiet neighborhood, split into cul-de-sacs swaddled in trees, log cabins and contemporary households raised side-by-side, eras colliding in pleasant harmonies.

The river gurgles almost imperceptibly in the distance, fenced off by those hints of industry that creep into the suburban sprawl.

For a place that's trees, grass, and a lot of stone, it's surprisingly easy to call home.

Comfy tbqh

Massive and intimate. Sprawling and remote. A name recognizable to all Americans, but respected by hardly any. Respect undesired. A city fundamentally without plan. Not even a city in truth. Towns and towns and towns again conglomerated together as "city" and then as "county" for the sake of simplicity. They say there is a center somewhere, supposedly deep within that bum ridden cemetery of glass and iron called "downtown". The title "city" is a meme. Little unites us, aside from a shared irony. Laughter. Rapture in our irrelevance. Our outstanding mediocrity. Metropolis rapidly gives way to back country. Marsh, river, beach, and forest. Condo, ghetto, country home, and gated community.

Vast, tractless sprawl. Featureless and partisan, I espouse the supremacy of my suburb against all others. My commute at any distance and time is thirty minutes or more. Buses are for the homeless, trains are for faggots. This is Tampa, and I want to die.

I wish I could

Humanity eats away at this place like the plague. Everyone rushes past one another. There is no community. There is no kinship. Our diversity has only meant that a very wide array of malignant tumors have developed all in spite of each other. The rump tower stands at the center of the city, like the tower of Babel,as a reminder that if anything is valued here it is personal gain and nothing more.
"Hate thy neighbor; honor thine posessions"

Trump** lol not rump

The Harbor in 9 PM American Darkness where I pointed out those black sitting Titans that arched their backs above the coal black of Atlantic Waves
Name, North-South, Misery, and Little Misery and Baker’s, and Childrens’ across the skyline. Haste Rock barely keeping his head above water
We came from dinner and I drove you round after hours despite your growing terror of the harsh curfew of your Worry-Addicted Matriarchs
Finally found the Waterstreet Boat-Ramp all overgrown by dunegrass and sailors’ houses with paint all peeling from the Centuries of Salted Wind
In the spring, I told you, I’d take you out on the ferry and we’d walk Misery Reserve to eat and to sit in the trees And to dodge fields of goosehit
And the look on your face when you told me that you’d never met anyone else who knew the names of the Sleeping Giants in the harbor

>there is a big hill

Shit, you guys got it made. Our town had a hill once, but then it got washed away.

boring

At one point, the town depended on tobacco. Once the soil had been thoroughly ruined, timber took over. The presence of a railroad and the San Jacinto river kept the place from dying for long enough. Once Houston really became a going concern, our fortunes fluctuated with theirs.

Miami?

It is either the smell of overwhelming salt water, or the a mixed smell of garbage, and alcohol. Each street lay lined with empty nips, discarded needles, and failed scratch off tickets. Building after building is in disarray, and every day a new one seems to have been boarded up and marked with a red X. The unfortunate citizens spend each day traveling to their job to earn a paycheck that gets sucked away by their poor financial skills, or their poor coping habits. Liquor, heroin, or lottery tickets. Every one has their own preferred poison.

>There is no community. There is no kinship. Our diversity has only meant that a very wide array of malignant tumors have developed all in spite of each other.
Good couple of sentences, honestly.

half redneck half Jewish
Not much to do but kinda nice too look at
I remember it being a lot more wholesome when I was younger but I guess the world has changed
It feels like fall doesn't even happen anymore here

Close, Jacksonville

Portland of the South

>and very kafkaesque.

An idyllic looking small town in the Laurel Highlands of Pennsylvania. About 2000 people. Entirely controlled by a single family with more money than the Rothschilds.

temescal reporting in; i'm proud to tell you that everything is nice and gentrified right now