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One year before the Outbreak

I write this to chron­i­cle my move out of Sweet Home Chica­go to the state of North Carolina,which I admit I was com­plete­ly igno­rant of. I mean who real­ly knows much about any ran­dom state oth­er than what you think you know, which is noth­ing at all usu­al­ly.

The last sum­mer in the city where my ori­gin sto­ry took place was full of my mems, both too sad and joy­ous to con­tem­plate. If I could peer into the near future and see all the crazy shit­storm that was 2020, I could­n’t even imag­ine it if I’d tried. The sequel to Con­ta­gion hap­pen­ing all across the plan­et! I mean I already detest­ed Chi­na and its prod­uct line pri­or to COVID-19, how much more now. Besides what does a free nation (and the great­est too) pos­si­bly have in com­mon with a back­wards, greedy and brain­less one that’s got­ten fat off of our need to buy their cheap shit prod­ucts?

I spent two months prepar­ing for all the logis­ti­cal leg­work for my move and dis­card­ed a ton of crap from my pos­ses­sions. Bequeath­ing much things to neigh­bors I’d actu­al­ly grown to know over the course of time. This young kid who would watch Sabi next door I was par­tic­u­lar­ly fond of, he was a bright hon­or stu­dent and good look­ing too (like me) and he fat­tened up Sabi once which I appre­ci­at­ed while I was away on an adven­ture. I tried teach­ing him mar­tial arts in the park and he learned some, but kids nowadays…if it’s not a videogame for­get it, they could­n’t learn any­thing. The teach­ers nowa­days were bleed­ing heart lib­er­tards who cared about the emo­tions of their snowflake stu­dents. I nev­er got away with shit much, I had teach­ers who were pure evil and delight­ed in try­ing to ruin me. They were the kind who were more envi­ous of stu­dents than lov­ing toward them. You sel­dom ever had teach­ers who saw your true poten­tial­i­ty, they want­ed to clus­ter you into two cat­e­gories: los­er or genius. Of course the ‘genius’ cat­e­go­ry was how sup­pli­cant you were. How polit­i­cal­ly cor­rect of an adher­ent to their sense of deco­rum.

I go and vis­it all the places, the ones I had mems of. I vis­it the lake­front, I goto Art Insti­tute sev­er­al times, I pass through Wrigleyville sev­er­al times. It feels dif­fer­ent now that the cubs won. Too many newish places I did­n’t rec­og­nize. I also vis­it all of the eater­ies and hit Uniq­lo on the Mag Mile. Last­ly enjoy­ing a meal at Tan­go Sur and one at Byron’s hot dogs. Then, I take a stroll down Dover street, the street my fam and I lived for the longest. It’s so sen­ti­men­tal and dif­fi­cult being here, see­ing my beloved home in the mid­dle of the street. How I want­ed to rush up the famil­iar stairs and into my old room, and all I could do is stare from across the street. I saw myself peer­ing out the win­dow as I often did, my room was fac­ing the street and I used to peer out of it just day­dream­ing about things.

The movers came and got all of my things, their next stop would be the pub­lic stor­age in Chapel Hill, NC. My place is bar­ren and emp­ty. On Fri­day morn of Aug 31st, 2019 I pre­pared to head out. My car was loaded, my dog was aboard, and my crazy neigh­bor Paris has me help her and her son moved my mat­tress into her unit. She’s one of those ebony sis­ters who has all her nails did and could be quite com­i­cal unin­ten­tion­al­ly. I gave her my space-age mat­tress as a part­ing gift, my last act of char­i­ta­ble giv­ing unto this city which I now hat­ed. Over the years the do noth­ing demo­c­ra­t­ic par­a­sites bled Chica­go dry and forced a mass exo­dus of all the smart peo­ple + busi­ness­es to flee. My fam moved to NC in 2013. I decid­ed to fol­low Michael Jor­dan to his neck of the woods, makes sense.

The road trip is fun. I have a well-sculpt­ed iTunes library. I drove like a mad­man from Chi to Indi­anapo­lis, must have done 90 the whole way there. It’s a lone­ly high­way that cuts through bor­ing Nor­mal Rock­well look­ing ter­rain. Once there I’m impressed with the cap­i­tal, even if I hate Indi­ana if only because of the rival­ry of the Pac­ers and the Bulls. It’s a filthy, indus­tri­al fac­to­ry rid­den state. I did enjoy the Indi­ana Dunes much, but oth­er than that noth­ing to see here.

Col­lege town, some nice build­ings, cute place. I eat a quick bite at 5 Guys. Play ball with Sabi in the park, to the amuse­ment of some bums near­by. I put Sabi in the car and sneak into a Hotel lob­by to relieve my aching blad­der, enjoy­ing a nice cup of free Star­bucks on my way out, heh heh.I call my sis­ter to tell her my loca­tion, she laughed at me and calls me a cheap ass for appro­pri­at­ing my free cup of joe. Hah not cheap at all just enjoy appro­pri­at­ing VIP treat­ment wher­ev­er I might be. I’m a super spy like that.

It’s only 2 hrs to my next des­ti­na­tion: Lex­ing­ton KY. I got bummed because I want­ed to stop into Colonel Sander’s home­town but missed the exit. In Lex­ing­ton, I admire the house archi­tec­ture, quite dis­tinct. The blis­ter­ing heat told me I was­n’t in the north any­more. This felt new to me. When I left Chi­town the sub­tle tell­tale chill of autumn was start­ing to per­me­ate the air already. I loved the feel of the south­ern sun. I could only fan­ta­size about con­tin­u­ous warmth, no more win­ters as I knew them.

I spent the night at Rama­da hotel that allows dogs. In the morn­ing, off to Asheville which is a city in the Blueridge moun­tains. Arrived with­out any hitch­es, a long 3 hr stint through beau­ti­ful moun­tains. I even stopped and passed through an entire tin­sel town legit in the moun­tains, crazy. Could­n’t imag­ine what it would be like liv­ing there. The jux­ta­po­si­tion between being an urban­ite to a coun­try bump­kin was­n’t lost on me. Wait till they get a load of me.

First month upon arrival to Car­rboro, NC I stayed in my sis­ter’s Airbnb. It’s cozy like I’m stay­ing in a flat straight out of Bet­ter Homes & Gar­dens. Peo­ple are nice here, or should I say friend­lier and cheer­ful. I meet some of my sis­ter’s yup­pie friends at their ver­sion of the cheers bar. I did­n’t talk much, some were cool oth­ers were less con­ver­sa­tion­al or inter­est­ing. They were like a cast of char­ac­ters straight out of a Hall­mark chan­nel romance. This is what hap­pens when well to do home­own­ers lack any real hob­bies. They get togeth­er and form their own ver­sion of ‘Friends.

I feel very weird now like I’m on a per­ma vacay some­where and any minute now going back to the Chi.
Fun­ny you dream of this moment, of extrac­tion and being uproot­ed, final­ly able to live some­where entire­ly newish. Then when it hap­pens you’re total­ly dis­com­bob­u­lat­ed. A month with­out Chica­go piz­za was a bit new. Has­sles of life!

Okay, sor­ry I know this was longish. I’ll describe my first digs here in the next episode of my life.

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