Just Wednesday

It's in the way...

The air feels in this city in the morning. When I'm walking to work - haven't had a proper sleep in days, haven't stopped for even a moment, haven't given in - as the air feels hard as grey slate with precipitation waiting to fall, with all my wool and leather layers easing into the burn of a red Starbucks cup and the wind pushing back curls for me.

Sniffle.

The light turns white, and for a moment - treasured moment of routine, I see miles down a 6-lane wide road into the depth of the city. All the blue glass, and the premature Christmas lights fluttering to Off in the dim morning light.

It's all those ways...

That we take at street corners and CTA steps underground, to lurch and hurdle and speeeeed high above the city.

So I took the wrong line the other night, just to dart off and switch trains - and see - raised on the wooden landing - all the blue lights of Chicago.

Sniffle.

Kept staring left and knew home was right inside of there. This month's rent paid, and that's my home-behind that building there-with the empty cupboards and carpet memories. Way over there, so high and soaring uncomfortably bright above the South Side.....what's this life?

What's this....think it's - dare I quote - "worship"? Worship of the streets, of the building pinnacles, of the grind, of the reaching hours, of the gravel nights, of the shapes around trickery and Stage, of the midnight oil oozing and sliding down our foolish, stupid, beautiful backs.......whoa, Pull it back. The clocking in. The clocking out. The contracts, the emails, the this-that "can you do me a favor?", "When could you have it by?", "I need something..."

Don't we all. 

Headphones: Kings of Leon's "Birthday", "The End", Paolo Nutini's "Pencil Full of Lead"