Some of you know that I've been out of work for more than a month. I was recently hired at a new place, and the HR department asked me for three interesting facts about me so they could email them out to the others. I thought that would be easy because I've led a crazy, weird, interesting life.
And then I realized that just about all of it is NSFW.
I probably shouldn't tell them about the time I had sex with a burn victim and she shit all over me. Or maybe the time I became Future Booze Jesus and predicted that an asshole I knew would never get herpes, unfortunately. Or maybe the time I serenaded a blow up doll during a karaoke show to Elvis's "I Want You, I Need You, I Love You." Or about the time that pancreatitis almost killed me. Or the time I beat a DUI. Or any of the books I published that got me fired from my last square job, like DONG OF FRANKENSTEIN or POOR BASTARDS AND RICH FUCKS.
I've done a lot of crazy, fucked up shit in my life. Most of it people would find interesting. HR departments tend to find that shit reprehensible. They find it offenses to fire people for.
Maybe I should have told them about the time I almost got my throat slit for nothing. Or maybe I should have brought attention to THE COCAINE! BROS. Or to the time I had a gun pulled on me. Or to the time a woman almost raped me.
Maybe I should talk about how I was severely beaten as a child by a man who got a Section 8 discharge from Vietnam. Do you realize how difficult that is? In Vietnam almost everything went.
Or how about the time my step-mom and father negotiated with a stripper over the price of a lap dance for me?
Or how about the time I lost my virginity? Nah, I won't do that. I promised the person who set that up that I would never tell a soul. He's dead now, but I would not betray that trust even now.
I've had a fucked up life. It's fucking weird, but I'm kinda grateful for it. My biggest rule for life is to never be boring. I've got so many fucked up stories to tell it's actually amazing.
It was a struggle, but here are the things I came up with for HR:
1. I won an honorable mention award from the State of Illinois journalism competition for writing comic book reviews.
2. I once chased down the mayor of Chicago like a dog because a friend of mine (and publisher, Nick Day) wanted a photo with him.
3. I once got slapped in the face with a bag of candy by Chuck Palahniuk, author of FIGHT CLUB. (He also nailed me with a plastic severed arm with his signature on it, but I felt it was inappropriate to mention that in a company email.)
It did the trick. One of my coworkers loves C2E2 and was impressed by my comic book coverage. Another coworker thought it was awesome that Palahniuk nailed me in such a fashion.
I might have been hired in the right place. I give it a 90% chance. I think I'm going to be good for the next 10 years. I never make it to the 10 year mark, so I figure I'll be fired about a half-month before I get there, I'm prepared for some good times.
Goodnight, fuckers.
Saturday, July 30, 2016
Friday, July 29, 2016
GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #184: THE SAME FACES EVERY DAY
This is day 4 of my new job. It's also the second day of walking in the rain to get from my office to the train. The rain doesn't scare a lot of people away. I'm lucky that my grandmother loaned me her umbrella. Just In Case. But I looked at my fellow commuters. Some had umbrellas, but a majority didn't give a fuck about having the sky cry on them.
You know who doesn't give a flying fuck about rain? The homeless. Rain or shine they're in their regular spot on their regular street. I cross the river to get to work from the train station to my office building. On my way in to work I see the guy who says good morning to everyone. There's the guy who peddles Streetwise. There's the guy who rattles his cup of change, the same guy who keeps taking change from his pocket to put into the cup so it seems like we all gave him something to rattle. There's the elderly woman who begs for help. There's the young couple who need drug money and aren't afraid to lie about it.
They're out there rain or shine.
On my way back to the train station their positions change, but they're the same people. The guy who rattles his cup. The young couple. The guy with Streetwise is gone, but everyone else is here. Instead of wishing everyone a good morning, they're wishing everyone a goodnight.
They are ignored. Maybe with good reason. I've known some homeless people over the course of my life, and from my understanding that's their lifestyle. It's horrible, but they don't want to change. They've found what they believe to be their place in the world. They have no hope. They just want to make it through another day.
So is Trump going to help these people? Is Clinton? Or any third party candidate who will never make it because the system is against them?
The system is made to be against certain people. Those homeless people you see on the streets will never find a place in our world. Maybe they don't want to. It's possible and likely from the interactions I've had. But here's the thing: the system is geared against them. Even if they wanted to be better they couldn't.
Look at our criminal system. People who have made a lot of piss-poor decisions in their youth can never recover to the point of getting a good job. No one wants to hire a felon or even someone who has committed a misdemeanor. No one believes people can change. Maybe that's fair. I know a lot of people who dug their own graves and don't know why they can't better themselves.
But fuck it. We should give people a chance. They might surprise us. They might transcend their place in the universe. They might even become paragons of society. You won't ever know until you give it a try.
I think mostly of a friend of mine. He grew up in a horrible place. His father was a psycho war vet. He got a Section 8 release, just like my step father. Except this guy was worse. He used to bury his son alive as punishment. It drove my friend crazy. I love him, and maybe that's the only reason he hasn't gone batshit crazy 100%.
He has IED as a result. This essentially means that no one will ever give him a job. Doctors will give him all sorts of drugs, but he'll never be able to make his way through the world. I liken him to Jody in PREACHER. So many terrible things happened to him in his youth that he swore that no one would ever make him a bitch for the rest of his life. He learned how to beat the mortal shit out of people at a second's notice. There is no one tougher than him that I know of. He unleashes his fury on anyone who has wronged him to the point where, well, he's been arrested again.
Our system is broken. It gives offenders ZERO chance. If you fuck up, you're out of our society forever.
It could have happened to me. I was arrested for DUI a while back. That's bad enough for anyone to ostracize me. I was lucky and was found not guilty. Very few people had that kind of luck.
Be careful who you ostracize. They could help society in the long run. Or they could kick the everloving shit out of you. Remember: we are a melting pot. We can find strengths in unlikely places. That's why we're supposed to be so forgiving of each other. Or we can just do shit as we always have. Business as usual. Let's march into our own destruction.
Or maybe not, yeah? Let's do something different. If we can.
You know who doesn't give a flying fuck about rain? The homeless. Rain or shine they're in their regular spot on their regular street. I cross the river to get to work from the train station to my office building. On my way in to work I see the guy who says good morning to everyone. There's the guy who peddles Streetwise. There's the guy who rattles his cup of change, the same guy who keeps taking change from his pocket to put into the cup so it seems like we all gave him something to rattle. There's the elderly woman who begs for help. There's the young couple who need drug money and aren't afraid to lie about it.
They're out there rain or shine.
On my way back to the train station their positions change, but they're the same people. The guy who rattles his cup. The young couple. The guy with Streetwise is gone, but everyone else is here. Instead of wishing everyone a good morning, they're wishing everyone a goodnight.
They are ignored. Maybe with good reason. I've known some homeless people over the course of my life, and from my understanding that's their lifestyle. It's horrible, but they don't want to change. They've found what they believe to be their place in the world. They have no hope. They just want to make it through another day.
So is Trump going to help these people? Is Clinton? Or any third party candidate who will never make it because the system is against them?
The system is made to be against certain people. Those homeless people you see on the streets will never find a place in our world. Maybe they don't want to. It's possible and likely from the interactions I've had. But here's the thing: the system is geared against them. Even if they wanted to be better they couldn't.
Look at our criminal system. People who have made a lot of piss-poor decisions in their youth can never recover to the point of getting a good job. No one wants to hire a felon or even someone who has committed a misdemeanor. No one believes people can change. Maybe that's fair. I know a lot of people who dug their own graves and don't know why they can't better themselves.
But fuck it. We should give people a chance. They might surprise us. They might transcend their place in the universe. They might even become paragons of society. You won't ever know until you give it a try.
I think mostly of a friend of mine. He grew up in a horrible place. His father was a psycho war vet. He got a Section 8 release, just like my step father. Except this guy was worse. He used to bury his son alive as punishment. It drove my friend crazy. I love him, and maybe that's the only reason he hasn't gone batshit crazy 100%.
He has IED as a result. This essentially means that no one will ever give him a job. Doctors will give him all sorts of drugs, but he'll never be able to make his way through the world. I liken him to Jody in PREACHER. So many terrible things happened to him in his youth that he swore that no one would ever make him a bitch for the rest of his life. He learned how to beat the mortal shit out of people at a second's notice. There is no one tougher than him that I know of. He unleashes his fury on anyone who has wronged him to the point where, well, he's been arrested again.
Our system is broken. It gives offenders ZERO chance. If you fuck up, you're out of our society forever.
It could have happened to me. I was arrested for DUI a while back. That's bad enough for anyone to ostracize me. I was lucky and was found not guilty. Very few people had that kind of luck.
Be careful who you ostracize. They could help society in the long run. Or they could kick the everloving shit out of you. Remember: we are a melting pot. We can find strengths in unlikely places. That's why we're supposed to be so forgiving of each other. Or we can just do shit as we always have. Business as usual. Let's march into our own destruction.
Or maybe not, yeah? Let's do something different. If we can.
Thursday, July 28, 2016
GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #183: DEAD ON THE SIDEWALK
On my walk from work to Ogilvie I saw my first dead guy outside the train station. At first I didn't recognize it for what it was. I saw a guy who looked like he was passed out on the sidewalk with his back against the building. Then I saw the Metra guard trying to keep everyone away from him with the ol' there's-nothing-to-see-here routine. As I got closer I realized that he wasn't passed out drunk.
He was dead.
There's something about a dead person that completely separates them from a living person. I studied crime scene photos for a novel I was working on a long time ago. Corpses don't look like human beings. They look like Hollywood props. As soon as life leaves them they are nothing but an empty vessel. Whatever spark life gives them is gone, and they're nothing but dolls made of human flesh.
That's what this kid looked like. He was young. I wouldn't put him past 25 years old. I suspected heroin overdose. There were no bruises on him, but there was a bit of blood on the sidewalk.
I realized in that moment that the Metra guard didn't have to work too hard. No one looked at this poor bastard except for me. Is this a common occurrence? Dead people outside of the train station? It must be. Everyone else walked around him like he was a piece of garbage by the side of the street. They were busy. They had places to be.
Was I the only one, aside from the Metra guard whose job depended on it, who saw this dead young man?
No. As I walked on I saw two other kids. One of them looked almost exactly like the dead man, to the point I could only assume it was the dead man's brother. He was bawling his eyes out, clutching a friend in an embrace that only the bereaved can understand. His friend looked at the body with sadness in his eyes, and he hugged his friend back.
My train was late. That pissed me off until I realized that someone wasn't going to make it home tonight.
He was dead.
There's something about a dead person that completely separates them from a living person. I studied crime scene photos for a novel I was working on a long time ago. Corpses don't look like human beings. They look like Hollywood props. As soon as life leaves them they are nothing but an empty vessel. Whatever spark life gives them is gone, and they're nothing but dolls made of human flesh.
That's what this kid looked like. He was young. I wouldn't put him past 25 years old. I suspected heroin overdose. There were no bruises on him, but there was a bit of blood on the sidewalk.
I realized in that moment that the Metra guard didn't have to work too hard. No one looked at this poor bastard except for me. Is this a common occurrence? Dead people outside of the train station? It must be. Everyone else walked around him like he was a piece of garbage by the side of the street. They were busy. They had places to be.
Was I the only one, aside from the Metra guard whose job depended on it, who saw this dead young man?
No. As I walked on I saw two other kids. One of them looked almost exactly like the dead man, to the point I could only assume it was the dead man's brother. He was bawling his eyes out, clutching a friend in an embrace that only the bereaved can understand. His friend looked at the body with sadness in his eyes, and he hugged his friend back.
My train was late. That pissed me off until I realized that someone wasn't going to make it home tonight.
Wednesday, July 27, 2016
GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #182: WINTER'S GOT TO COME FAST
This is day two of my new job. I've become a Metra commuter. This means that when I get off the train I have to walk about fifteen minutes to my office. It's fucking killing me.
OK, it costs a lot, but when I've been with the company for three months, they start paying for my train tickets. That's not the worst of it. It's the goddam fucking relentless heat. Even worse, in the morning I walk into the sun. In the evening I walk into the sun. So much direct contact from the sun is turning me to mush. It's not natural. It's a ball of fire in the sky, and it must be avoided at all costs.
I arrive at work every day with a shirt soaked through with sweat. My face is wet. My fingers are squishing together. My balls are almost all the way to my knees, and I can feel them stuck between my thighs. I imagine it looks like the web from the Spider-Man trailers with the Twin Towers in them. Horrible. HORRIBLE.
I try my best to cover my sweat up with cologne, but that's not enough. I feel very uncomfortable for the next eight hours even if my clothes have finally dried off. My hair is a sweaty mess and can't recover from it. I spend about ten minutes before going into the office just trying to clean up, and it never works.
And then I get to do it again on my way back to the train station. I always arrive about 20 minutes before my train departs for Elmhurst, and when I slump down into my seat--picked before anyone else gets on--I see my reflection in the window. It looks like Gollum just before he became Gollum. I put more cologne on even though I know it's not going to make much of a difference. I dab my face with tissue, leaving wet crumbs of the stuff all over my face and collar. I'm turning into a beast.
GAME OF THRONES always threatens that winter is coming. I can't wait for that shit. I need to show up JUST FUCKING ONCE for work without being covered in sweat. I think when winter finally does come I won't even wear a coat. I might even walk the streets of the Windy City in the nude just to feel nice and dry when I walk into the office that morning.
When I get home I shower immediately. It's one of the greatest feelings in the world. Even better than an assisted orgasm. Even better than drinking Wild Turkey 101. Good God, it's even better than reading a kick-ass book.
Can we please ban any weather over seventy degrees? That would be a huge help for me. Either that or we need to invent a transporter. Scotty, beam me to work. I don't care if there's a fly in here with me. Sure, it's fun and games until your dick falls off and you have to keep it in your medicine cabinet. But I'd rather show up dry at work with some semblance of hygiene. Thank you.
OK, it costs a lot, but when I've been with the company for three months, they start paying for my train tickets. That's not the worst of it. It's the goddam fucking relentless heat. Even worse, in the morning I walk into the sun. In the evening I walk into the sun. So much direct contact from the sun is turning me to mush. It's not natural. It's a ball of fire in the sky, and it must be avoided at all costs.
I arrive at work every day with a shirt soaked through with sweat. My face is wet. My fingers are squishing together. My balls are almost all the way to my knees, and I can feel them stuck between my thighs. I imagine it looks like the web from the Spider-Man trailers with the Twin Towers in them. Horrible. HORRIBLE.
I try my best to cover my sweat up with cologne, but that's not enough. I feel very uncomfortable for the next eight hours even if my clothes have finally dried off. My hair is a sweaty mess and can't recover from it. I spend about ten minutes before going into the office just trying to clean up, and it never works.
And then I get to do it again on my way back to the train station. I always arrive about 20 minutes before my train departs for Elmhurst, and when I slump down into my seat--picked before anyone else gets on--I see my reflection in the window. It looks like Gollum just before he became Gollum. I put more cologne on even though I know it's not going to make much of a difference. I dab my face with tissue, leaving wet crumbs of the stuff all over my face and collar. I'm turning into a beast.
GAME OF THRONES always threatens that winter is coming. I can't wait for that shit. I need to show up JUST FUCKING ONCE for work without being covered in sweat. I think when winter finally does come I won't even wear a coat. I might even walk the streets of the Windy City in the nude just to feel nice and dry when I walk into the office that morning.
When I get home I shower immediately. It's one of the greatest feelings in the world. Even better than an assisted orgasm. Even better than drinking Wild Turkey 101. Good God, it's even better than reading a kick-ass book.
Can we please ban any weather over seventy degrees? That would be a huge help for me. Either that or we need to invent a transporter. Scotty, beam me to work. I don't care if there's a fly in here with me. Sure, it's fun and games until your dick falls off and you have to keep it in your medicine cabinet. But I'd rather show up dry at work with some semblance of hygiene. Thank you.
Tuesday, July 26, 2016
GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #181: FULL CIRCLE
Today was the first day of my new job. I thought back to the beginning of my previous job from 10 years ago. I remember seeing what I was going to do and feeling completely overwhelmed. I felt like a fraud just sitting there, nodding and pretending that I understood what I saw. But I learned fast, and I got promotion after promotion until before I knew it, the guy who barely knew how to copy and paste was suddenly in a tech support position.
During those ten years I trained a lot of people. I always saw the same look on their faces. They were terrified because they were nodding and pretending to understand what they saw. I did something that none of my trainers did for me: I told them I know it's overwhelming, but that the more they stuck around, the more they would truly understand what I was showing them. Before they know it, they'll be doing this like it's second nature.
I won a lot of people over with that. Some of them even went on to become great at their jobs. I lost a few. They couldn't take it. Usually they quit the same day they saw all the stuff that would be expected of them. It's scary shit, but I know that it can be conquered. I did it myself, and I helped others do it, too.
Today I went into my new job for the first time. I had a lot of information shoved into my brain, information that I probably won't retain at first. But I've been here before. I have faith in myself that I can learn to do this, and it will be second nature to me.
And then my new boss and my trainer both did something independent of each other: they checked with me to see if they were scaring me off. They told me that the more I stuck around the more I would truly understand what they were showing me. Before I know it, I'll be doing this like it's second nature.
I'm not one to believe in a sentient universe, but if I did I would say that it has a very delicious sense of humor. It makes me laugh every time.
During those ten years I trained a lot of people. I always saw the same look on their faces. They were terrified because they were nodding and pretending to understand what they saw. I did something that none of my trainers did for me: I told them I know it's overwhelming, but that the more they stuck around, the more they would truly understand what I was showing them. Before they know it, they'll be doing this like it's second nature.
I won a lot of people over with that. Some of them even went on to become great at their jobs. I lost a few. They couldn't take it. Usually they quit the same day they saw all the stuff that would be expected of them. It's scary shit, but I know that it can be conquered. I did it myself, and I helped others do it, too.
Today I went into my new job for the first time. I had a lot of information shoved into my brain, information that I probably won't retain at first. But I've been here before. I have faith in myself that I can learn to do this, and it will be second nature to me.
And then my new boss and my trainer both did something independent of each other: they checked with me to see if they were scaring me off. They told me that the more I stuck around the more I would truly understand what they were showing me. Before I know it, I'll be doing this like it's second nature.
I'm not one to believe in a sentient universe, but if I did I would say that it has a very delicious sense of humor. It makes me laugh every time.
Monday, July 25, 2016
GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #180: HOW I SPENT MY 38TH BIRTHDAY
It's been a while since I cared about my birthday. I appreciate all the nice things people say to me (and the occasional gifts I get), but I don't think I've given much of a damn since I turned 21. I just got a new job recently, and I'm pretty sure I would have started today if not for my birthday. It was nice of them to start me on the 26th instead.
I woke up a bit early for someone who is still technically unemployed. I had my morning Tang (which I know no one else I know does, but I'm OK with that) while checking my various online presences. My favorite, of course, was checking in with Warren Ellis's Orbital Operations newsletter. It made me so happy that I spent some time on rereading more of COME IN ALONE. More on that in a future Goodnight, Fuckers.
Then I went out and did some useful things, like checking out the train schedule so I know when I have to be at the station tomorrow for my first week of orientation. My work schedule is 11:30 am to 8 pm, but for the first week I'm going in at 8:30 am. I also got a shit-ton of caffeine. I quit caffeine a while ago, but it has become very useful to me again in my unemployment. With my brain emitting tons of energy I went home and watched some RAISING HOPE before I went out to see the new Star Trek movie.
When I got home, still feeling like I was on another level of existence, I finished the final draft of a short story, during which time I only said twice, "Holy shit, what the fuck have I done?" I also handled the three stories I got rejects for as described on my episode of the Bizzong podcast. So yes, I did productive things today.
I even spent a day self-promoting myself which I try not to do often. Too many authors spend their time pimping their shit on social media. I just want to be human with people. I hate the sales aspect of everything, but it's something I can't ignore. I pimp something when it first comes out and then let it go into the ether. Until I come to a week of self-promotion, that is. Sorry.
I considered masturbating after that. I didn't because I didn't have the time. Instead I took a shower and got some food. Fast food, which is something I'm going to attempt to quit again. I watched more RAISING HOPE, and I'm glad for it. I'm a huge MY NAME IS EARL fan, and it was a MY NAME IS EARL themed episode. It made me very happy, especially seeing TV's Tim Stack. I love that guy back to the Dick Dietrick days.
During that time I finished off the last of the Booker's that I have. It is the most expensive bourbon I've ever bought, and it's fucking worth it. I'm a huge Wild Turkey 101 fan, but this might have finally changed my mind after nearly 15 years. I'm not likely to ever taste it again. Too bad.
Then it was time for MAKING OF THE MOB: CHICAGO. That's a good show. Shitty dialogue, but it's fun to see how Al Capone changed my city. Every once in a while I stop by his grave to say hello. Once I even hunted ghosts there, but again, that's a story for another day.
And now it's time to write this. I had a lot of fun today by not going out and celebrating. I talked to a lot of awesome people who wished nothing but the best for me. Relatives gave me money when I just ran out of my severance pay. I even got a hundred bucks to spend at Amazon, which is amazing. My brother got me a POP! figure of Data, my favorite Star Trek character ever, and a Reflection figure of Scotty, who I sometimes felt like at mt old job. And I got to do a lot of things I like doing, including finishing the last draft of a fucked up story that no one will probably want to read.
For the first time in more than a month I have work tomorrow. So I'm going to bed. Goodnight, you wonderful people who are not actually fuckers, but I like to say that because it has a nice ring to it. And I like busting balls. Seriously. Thank you for today. I hope all of your tomorrows are awesome as fuck.
I woke up a bit early for someone who is still technically unemployed. I had my morning Tang (which I know no one else I know does, but I'm OK with that) while checking my various online presences. My favorite, of course, was checking in with Warren Ellis's Orbital Operations newsletter. It made me so happy that I spent some time on rereading more of COME IN ALONE. More on that in a future Goodnight, Fuckers.
Then I went out and did some useful things, like checking out the train schedule so I know when I have to be at the station tomorrow for my first week of orientation. My work schedule is 11:30 am to 8 pm, but for the first week I'm going in at 8:30 am. I also got a shit-ton of caffeine. I quit caffeine a while ago, but it has become very useful to me again in my unemployment. With my brain emitting tons of energy I went home and watched some RAISING HOPE before I went out to see the new Star Trek movie.
When I got home, still feeling like I was on another level of existence, I finished the final draft of a short story, during which time I only said twice, "Holy shit, what the fuck have I done?" I also handled the three stories I got rejects for as described on my episode of the Bizzong podcast. So yes, I did productive things today.
I even spent a day self-promoting myself which I try not to do often. Too many authors spend their time pimping their shit on social media. I just want to be human with people. I hate the sales aspect of everything, but it's something I can't ignore. I pimp something when it first comes out and then let it go into the ether. Until I come to a week of self-promotion, that is. Sorry.
I considered masturbating after that. I didn't because I didn't have the time. Instead I took a shower and got some food. Fast food, which is something I'm going to attempt to quit again. I watched more RAISING HOPE, and I'm glad for it. I'm a huge MY NAME IS EARL fan, and it was a MY NAME IS EARL themed episode. It made me very happy, especially seeing TV's Tim Stack. I love that guy back to the Dick Dietrick days.
During that time I finished off the last of the Booker's that I have. It is the most expensive bourbon I've ever bought, and it's fucking worth it. I'm a huge Wild Turkey 101 fan, but this might have finally changed my mind after nearly 15 years. I'm not likely to ever taste it again. Too bad.
Then it was time for MAKING OF THE MOB: CHICAGO. That's a good show. Shitty dialogue, but it's fun to see how Al Capone changed my city. Every once in a while I stop by his grave to say hello. Once I even hunted ghosts there, but again, that's a story for another day.
And now it's time to write this. I had a lot of fun today by not going out and celebrating. I talked to a lot of awesome people who wished nothing but the best for me. Relatives gave me money when I just ran out of my severance pay. I even got a hundred bucks to spend at Amazon, which is amazing. My brother got me a POP! figure of Data, my favorite Star Trek character ever, and a Reflection figure of Scotty, who I sometimes felt like at mt old job. And I got to do a lot of things I like doing, including finishing the last draft of a fucked up story that no one will probably want to read.
For the first time in more than a month I have work tomorrow. So I'm going to bed. Goodnight, you wonderful people who are not actually fuckers, but I like to say that because it has a nice ring to it. And I like busting balls. Seriously. Thank you for today. I hope all of your tomorrows are awesome as fuck.
Sunday, July 24, 2016
GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #179: THE ONLY WAY TO SEE AMERICA
I recently got a new job, and it's in the city. Paying for parking is absolutely insane, though. My only option: become a train commuter. I'm starting on Tuesday, so I decided to take a practice run today so I know where I'm going when I do it for real.
I've been on trains before but only as a child. I went to the train station in Elmhurst and got on a Chicago bound train. I craned my neck to watch out the window. What did I see? America. Seriously. I think I need to ride one of these things cross-country just to see what else America has to offer.
I saw my neighborhood in a different light, and then I moved beyond it. I saw forgotten buildings with more broken windows than intact windows. I saw warehouses. I saw truck depots. I saw a place where they store Dumpsters. I saw bridges with graffiti. I saw creeks surrounded by woods where underage teens and indigents undoubtedly smoke weed and get drunk. And I saw the city, both the ugly and the beautiful. Holy shit, my train ride should have had a soundtrack by REM. "Driver 8" is perfect for this shit. Or maybe Marcy Playground's "Memphis."
Aside from the stops there is nothing good to be seen from a train. These are the forgotten places. The abandoned places. The lost places. I feel the soul that used to be here and see only the shell of what remains.
It's the ghost of America. May it rest in peace.
I've been on trains before but only as a child. I went to the train station in Elmhurst and got on a Chicago bound train. I craned my neck to watch out the window. What did I see? America. Seriously. I think I need to ride one of these things cross-country just to see what else America has to offer.
I saw my neighborhood in a different light, and then I moved beyond it. I saw forgotten buildings with more broken windows than intact windows. I saw warehouses. I saw truck depots. I saw a place where they store Dumpsters. I saw bridges with graffiti. I saw creeks surrounded by woods where underage teens and indigents undoubtedly smoke weed and get drunk. And I saw the city, both the ugly and the beautiful. Holy shit, my train ride should have had a soundtrack by REM. "Driver 8" is perfect for this shit. Or maybe Marcy Playground's "Memphis."
Aside from the stops there is nothing good to be seen from a train. These are the forgotten places. The abandoned places. The lost places. I feel the soul that used to be here and see only the shell of what remains.
It's the ghost of America. May it rest in peace.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
