chicago is my city.
i say that and i don’t know if it’ll be the city i live in for the rest of my life so i don’t know if i’ll always be able to say chicago is my home but chicago is definitely my city.
no matter where i live there won’t be a city better than chicago.
cuz there isn’t a city better than chicago.
chicago is a lot of everything. it’s a place that doesn’t half ass it. we do weather like weather wants to be done. we do food like it wants to be done. we do sex and drugs and rock and roll and hip hop and shopping and church and politician like they want to be done.
chicago’s a place where tourists come for the pizza and stay for the two dollar hotdog. they come for navy pier but they stay for the dive bars.
in chicago we all feel like we know the city but we all know we don’t know half of it. we found a better burger last week and we’ll find a better one tomorrow. there’s so many bars in the neighborhood you’d have to move in to check them all out.
our theater is risky and bold. the music never stops.
chicago is daley, not blago. it’s thrift boutiques and not walmart. it’s real coffee, real food, and real beer. it’s real skyscapers and a real lake and a real beach.
i miss california, more so in early february when the wind off the lake is so painfully cold that you drag it with you for five minutes once you get inside and your officemate shivers when you walk by.
i miss new york sometimes too where everything is moving all at once and millions of people have spawned a human mashup that at times (like music) all comes out beautiful.
but pound for pound chicago’s my city because it looks me straight in the eye and simply wants me to be honest.
and you just gotta respect that.