WELLAND, ONTARIO – my hometown and my most fierce enemy. a town devoid of pleasure or occurrences; my place of struggle.
i am not about to lie and say that my hometown is a great place, because it isn’t – there is nothing to do, everyone here is either on drugs or selling them, and the city itself reminds me of my adolescence, which, who in their right mind wants to be reminded of their 12 to 17 year old selves?
welland is currently the place in which my parents reside, making my visits to this shithole on the scale of every couple of weeks to prolonged visits during winter break and reading week. and while, sure, i’m most likely going to get some commenters saying ‘welland isn’t so bad! welland isn’t ugly! welland has great citizens!’, i am going to state that, no, martha or karen or whoever, i don’t agree. sorry.
this wrath i’ve verbally lashed onto the city is one i’ve preached since moving here when i was twelve, and i’m probably always going to loathe welland, regardless of it’s merits or improvements. but i can at least try to romanticize the old, decrepit buildings and take pictures of the few good landscapes in the city to try and find some substance in the town that pushed me to the floor and then kicked me while i was down.