You know growing up I never understood the appeal of living in the country. It was too flat, it was too far and it was too dirty. I promised myself that the moment I could escape I would, but then I left for two years… and then it quickly turned to five years.
I’ve now found myself in a predicament–I’ve got a great job in the city, but everything feels so vague and unfamiliar. Things lose their simplicity, and you stop appreciating things that were once important. You take on longer hours at work and you buy more expensive things, but there is always something missing–an emptiness that you just can’t seem to fill.
Chicago is one of those beautiful, magnificent places that you’ll never be able to call your own. You could work and strive to make a name for yourself, but get lost in the faces of the millions of other people. Days seem to stream together into a cycle of crazy, chaotic rhythm that becomes months and then years.
I miss trees, I miss dirt and most of all I miss the stars.
When I was younger I remember the nights were full of stars. They filled the sky with a magnificence that I thought you could never take for granted, but it saddens me to think of people who have lived in the city their whole lives and never set eyes on a star: What a sight they’re missing. So in those moments where I feel like the city has taken too much time and space… I find a new escape that feels almost as good as home: Words.