"The Last Great Record Store" ; U Virginia Sup: Favorite Place to Get Lost

Any recommendations will be a great help!

Question: "Discuss your favorite place to get lost."

Piles of rainbow colors abound as I sift through unknown artists. The odor of cardboard and vinyl hang in the open basement air. Bordered by a mosaic of records from The Beatles to 50 Cent, I explore the thousands of tattered and abandoned vinyls. After some searching, I find one of my favorites, Marty Robbins. A tear disfigures the bottom, and masking tape fortifies the right side of the thin paper cover. Thrilled, I add the record to my growing stack.

Similar to a library, Rasputin Music: "The Last Great Record Store," houses the archives of history through its vast collection of both new and secondhand records. I make the journey from (my home town) to Berkeley to take part in the tradition uncommon to my generation. There, I have the opportunity to discover gunfighter ballads or swing anthems unknown to most of my peers. Today, society strives to simplify, streamline, and compact all aspects of life. Shopping for records allows me to break from that complexity of simplification and bask in the classic and conventional ways of the past.

While shopping for Frank Sinatra, Glenn Miller, or Mary Robbins, I not only lose myself among the multitudes of vinyl records, but also in the rituals and ideas of past generations.

Thanks again!

I feel that it would benefit you to focus more on yourself and less on negative aspects of society. You come of as a little hipster otherwise, but that may not be a bad thing.

Great point. I appreciate the feedback.

My Hometown; University of Virginia; Favorite Place To Get Lost

Hey guys, my second attempt at posting this same supplement on here. Let me know anything I could do better or any other recommendations. Thanks!

Question: Describe your favorite place to get lost:

The cracked hazel-mud ground fissures beneath my feet. Waves of weeds succumb to the wind to sway back and forth. Rotting logs crack and splinter as blue-bellied lizards scuffle underneath. Staring back at me, dairy cows bask in the shade of a large oak tree. Then, I find my depilated fort, where heroic battles of stick fights took place years ago. I continue, and find the creek teaming with green tree frogs. They jump from rock to rock, but this time I didn't bring a jar. After an uphill grade and several minutes, I arrive at "my favorite tree," and lower my homemade rope swing from the branches above. Swinging back and forth, I stare out at (my hometown). A bowl, surround by hills on all sides, with an opening toward San Francisco. Even though I've seen this view hundreds of times, it still amazes me. My hometown, my beginning, but now: my past.

not sure if it's just me... but why is this place considered your past now?

Because hopefully I'm moving to Virginia next year haha

"This time I didn't bring a jar."
"This time I don't have a jar."

Also last sentence is awkward. I'm assuming you added the : for dramatic effect, but try to get rid of it and word it differently