The year is steadily winding closer toward the finish line.
I recently migrated to the piedmont of NC. On Aug 31st, 2019 at 6:30 am, I left the windy city once and for all. The city was still asleep, and it felt weird seeing downtown in my rearview mirror, the telltale Willis Tower’s trademark antennae array, the John Hancock building, the Illinois state-building. I’d dreamed of this very moment, it was happening and I was living it. My 2017 Honda Civic was filled to capacity with my luggage, and Sabi (the prince of dogs) was chilling in the back seat.
Would have left even earlier, but my upstairs neighbor a single black mom named Paris needed my help lifting my bed up to her unit. I bequeathed her my space-age mattress, how kind of me.
It was just starting to get mildly chill in the air then, as it usually does. I drove like a bat out of hell and wound up in Indianapolis only 3 hrs later. I would sometimes road trip to the Indiana Dunes some summers, yet I hated the state. Mostly because of the intense rivalry between the Chicago bulls and the Pacers back in the Michael Jordan era. My friends and I sometimes would visit Indiana at times to hit the casino’s or meet girls, who were much more approachable than Chicago chicks.
Yet never been to Indianapolis, nor had any desire to. Beautiful town, more so than I would’ve ever guessed. I snuck into a hotel lobby to relieve my bladder, grabbing a free cup of Starbucks on the way out. How nice of them to provide it for their hotel guests, heh heh. Ate lunch at 5 Guys than was off to Lexington, KY. When I arrived the intensity of the southern sun amazed me. I wasn’t expecting it at all, but I was very happy about it. Even the hottest summer day in Chicago wasn’t as intense as this! Wow, this really was a climate change for me. Finally, no more horrible Chi winters.
Now that I’m here, I feel like I’m still in Chicago for some reason. I keep thinking of all the places where I once occupied, where my origin story actually transpired. It’s easy to say you’re never looking back, harder when you’re a writer and the details scream at you to fill in the blanks, color them bad like an adult color book.
Each and every day, when you look past all of the hoopla and fruitless chaos happening I saw through the lenses of a sobering truth: a drought of authentic, legit love. The desperation for that love fuelling the masses to destroy and ruin others for some sense of aliveness that couldn’t be obtained in that way. And now, the lotus-eaters and the lost snowflakes continue to rage and war like there’s no consequence. I only hope and pray that someday, these snowflake Millenials will have their eyes opened.