in 2019: My last partial year in Chicago. I just came back into town from a very nice vacay in Nagshead which is the Outer Banks (aka OBX by the locals, I know sounds like a tampon brand). It was a nice time, my sister rented an obnoxious house on a golf course on the sound side, which is stupid. You want to be on the ocean front. Anyways, I still had a hell of a time, really. Best seafood ever, and it was so refreshing. I only regretted having to return home to Chitown eventually. Little did I realize that I would be relocating to North Carolina a month later. The remaining few weeks before leaving, I visited all of the places that I could think of: Byrons Hotdogs: I know that Anthony Bourdain featured Budacki's on Damen & Lawrence, and I don't know why. He had a peculiar fondness for Koreans, what's there not to like? Most Koreans are cute, crazy people. I'm only half so I guess I'm half cute, half crazy. This place is my spot for greasy fast food and I've been coming here since I was a young pup. So has my entire clan. I'd come after school to get a quick bite or take some friends along with me for lunch. 3rd Coast Cafe: I didn't get a time e to squeeze this place in. This was my secret spot, my hang place, and my favorite cafe in the city. I would go on dates here, spend hours at a time during winter simply writing in my sketch-journal, filling them up, and do my homework here as well. Tango Sur: my fav and one of the longest standing restaurants in Wrigleyville, this Argentinian steak house is a gorgeous ambiance, and their steaks are exquisite. Davis Theater: had to see a movie here one last time. It's where I saw LOTR, and the original Star Wars trilogy. It's also where I had my first date and first date kiss (not my first kiss, first date kiss. I had my first kiss kiss when I was like 2 or 3). I think
I really hate Instagram, can't help it but I do. I dislike the constant comparison models it presents, the fake lifestyles, and the influencers on there. It's a petri dish for narcissism, really. but hey some people are all into it, they built their careers around influencing, the job title of unemployed hipsters with large followings. Yet what I detest the most is the rise of Instapoets. Fake, talentless, lame writers who have formed a cultish following based on their hallow, anemic writings that anybody could've written. My strong disdain for these talentless snowflakes is that they essentially created a cheap backdoor to success based on the likes and follows of a legion of people who find real, legit poetry too hard, intimidating and difficult. So the likes of Atticus, rupi kaur and Lang Leav essentially made up their own premium version of fake poetry to feed these clueless kids. I especially despise the very word 'Instapoetry' like poetry is somehow insufficient. The gatekeepers, those publishing houses in Canada just saw $$ and said to hell with standards. Essentially they were seduced by their own unchecked greed, Chief among these are two con artist hacks from Canada: rupi kaur, and Atticus. Both have this in common: their ill-begotten fame is born of Instagram, liked 👍 into actual publication, and they're both purveyors of horrific literary trash, vogon poetry for the clueless. If I could describe their work it would be: talentless trash wannabe poetry porn. Next up on this list is the talentless Lang Leav another addition to a growing list. She's a New Zealand Asian girl author of 'Sea of Strangers' which reads like a Korean Drama google translated into lines of horrible verses. The founding mother of the whole phenom is rupi kaur, who started to make some noise of course with her little IG stunt. She posted images of herself menstrating (with her clothes on) and turned them into a feminist art exhibit. Yeah real artistic genius. Even IG had to say 'That's disgusting' until they stopped and reconsidered their stance and caved in. Later, kaur self publishes and her
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.
The internet increasingly more boring now. More annoying, overflux of people who remain strangers, people who want to 'like', love, know you from afar. They are too preoccupied with themselves. Truthfully we're all too bamboozled, bombarded by these bombastic beings. Narcissists look for love from other narcissists. You're either a giver, or a taker, you can't be both. 90% of the world are takers. Some takers encounter givers, they think to themselves 'wow, a real sucker I can keep on taking', much like a lonestar tick, or an assassin they want to suck the marrow from your bones. It's utterly alien to them that someone gives in todays modern era.
Comes from some other beginning's end...yeah....
"Keep a journal and a journal will keep you" -Anais NinWelcome to this place, such as it is. I only just moved in, I'm new to the neighborhood. My boxes and furniture only just arrived, and I'm contemplating the interior decor. Most of my furniture is a hodge podge of World Market, Ikea, Nadeau, and Mayfair. Throw in some Craigslist and furniture I repaired I found in dumpsters around my neighborhood, which I like to refer to as The Shire. Yes, I live in the Shire of Chapel Hill, NC. I'm the new kid on the block here, a former urbanite now living the dream in an entirely new environment. Why here? My fam migrated here in 2013. We were all native Chicagoans. After awhile, I lost my ties with the windy city. Yet I found it a bit of a pickle to find a place that was really me to relocate to. Definitely not west, and I came dangerously close to moving to Texas or Portland at some point (thankfully, that didn't happen). This is my own personal habitation on the web. It's pretty much me being me, and I don't need your approval, your likes/loves and adoration. If you follow me, then do so only because you want to. I won't entice you as I get more out of this than you of course, naturally. I'm not a celebrity, nor a narcissist. I couldn't care less whether you were here or not here.