iamsosorry

I found this old piano in the alley behind my apartment last night, and it’s one of my favorite things that’s happened to me in a while. The music stand part of the piano was floating lazily by in the huge puddle I later had to tiptoe over, and the rain had quieted the usual ambient noise you hear echoing between my building and the streets that border it. 

😍

Ciara smh kids were watching

Where is it

great job on your audition see you in hollywood papi

#2015bestnine

Last week I treated myself to one of those solo dinners by taking public transportation up to the north side of town for Dollar Burgers at my favorite tucked-away gay bar. Mondays for Buck Burgers it’s a teeming mix of actual queers and adventurous straight couples who share a love of bargains AND feeling progressive. The train stop for the bar is in the middle of Chicago’s “Asia on Argyle”, and always seems to be in some state of construction. This visit was no exception. I turned out of the station onto the street, and found it completely gutted. It looked like some kind of infrastructure improvement that rendered Argyle into one long dirt moat, dotted with plywood bridges, each leading to its own phō restaurant, or beauty store, or cultural center, or that one huge liquor store with the most perfectly indelicate oversized neon sign. I joined a wave of commuters shuffling down the blown out asphalt, people turning sharply as they came to the bridge over the dirt that belonged to them. At one corner a lady yelled into a bodega from the street. “HEY! Boy! Tell those two guys in the back there it’s the lady in the wheelchair and she needs to talk to them, and they better come out this time.” The white dust of gravel and movement swirled up to our waists as we moved en masse to wherever we were supposed to be. I neared the bar where I’d be eating alone again and before I made my own sharp turn inside I looked up. It hit me all at once how much I loved it. How much I loved the LED glow of the tacky luxury-lite rehabs of old lakefront hotels, casting waves of inn appropriate fluo colors on the treetops. How much I loved the roadwork with its mess unapologetically laid bare, and the people who’d walk a plywood moat for good phō, and that there’s space for people who yell on the street, and people who refresh Twitter silently at a table for one, and it’s all on the same block. How much I loved my shitty dollar burger and a beer and a place to charge my iPad on a patio. I don’t know where to go next, but for the first time in a while right here is feeling nice for now.

Carly Rae Jepsen, Sia Furler, Greg Kurstin, Tavish Crowe. “Boy Problems.” E•MO•TION. Interscope, 2015.

*throws fries*

Find your bliss and pursue it!!!

you/me