Saturday, November 26, 2005
Dear chicago,
i swear you hate me. (and i hate you too)
i've been to you three times and still i've never managed to enjoy myself
the first time it was thanksgiving two years ago. it was too cold to go outside and i sat in the amtrak station all day waiting for the goddamn train
the second time the company was basically a pile of shit; not worth mentioning even now.
i decided to give chicago a try again this year.
and what the hell, i had to eat that piece of beef that put me under for half the night.
lost my appetite, lost my head; walked around like a zombie in the snow and cold feeling like the scattered yellow leaves in the fall. scattered, unrooted and terribly lonely.
all this semester i was learning about exclusion; about dehumanization; about loneliness.
and while walking through all the postlust consumerism in michigan avenue i realized that all this semester i was learning about myself. an international excluded from the mainstream. merely a insignificant, sometimes bemused, mosttimes bitter observer of your american life. where your holidays are just brief respites from the chug-chug-chug-inch-by-inch advancement of my days. where my real holidays are the days where i fly out from you to my real home where, because i've been gone so long, it has been a long lost friend that i am simply trying to understand again.
where can i find my place in the sun? when in your places of steel and glided gold idols will i find my like? and where are you-the you where i can pour my thoughts into and not be judged and masked and censured?
i swear you hate me. (and i hate you too)
i've been to you three times and still i've never managed to enjoy myself
the first time it was thanksgiving two years ago. it was too cold to go outside and i sat in the amtrak station all day waiting for the goddamn train
the second time the company was basically a pile of shit; not worth mentioning even now.
i decided to give chicago a try again this year.
and what the hell, i had to eat that piece of beef that put me under for half the night.
lost my appetite, lost my head; walked around like a zombie in the snow and cold feeling like the scattered yellow leaves in the fall. scattered, unrooted and terribly lonely.
all this semester i was learning about exclusion; about dehumanization; about loneliness.
and while walking through all the postlust consumerism in michigan avenue i realized that all this semester i was learning about myself. an international excluded from the mainstream. merely a insignificant, sometimes bemused, mosttimes bitter observer of your american life. where your holidays are just brief respites from the chug-chug-chug-inch-by-inch advancement of my days. where my real holidays are the days where i fly out from you to my real home where, because i've been gone so long, it has been a long lost friend that i am simply trying to understand again.
where can i find my place in the sun? when in your places of steel and glided gold idols will i find my like? and where are you-the you where i can pour my thoughts into and not be judged and masked and censured?
