Audrey slaved over a hot oven partially for my visit! ;) (Taken with Instagram)
Breakfast. +madmen (Taken with Instagram)
Going to see mewithoutYou right now. Cannot wait.
After a long pondering and contemplation of what has been going on in my life I have found myself at a place of peace and tranquility. I feel like I am on the brink of inspiration and I need to get my creative facets working again. I’m brimming with so much creativity and I just haven’t found the correct way to get this out, naturally I resort to writing.
I wrote this today in my journal,
“It was a balmy afternoon. I stared out to a lonely lake while having a conversation with a very close friend. This friend means a lot to me, I wouldn’t trade him for anything, he’s been consistently a good friend and a help to me over the past few years. My past two days have been riddled with thoughts of an ethereal nature, he’s been there to listen and give advice accordingly. I’m not sure what to do. My heart wants to give itself away, but the fear is an inhibiting factor. I’m not sure how to handle this. I need to figure out whats going on. [This] is all I think about. [It’s] all I want, but ultimately I want what is best for her, but I need to do what is best for me also.”
I talked to my room mates today and they gave me their advice. I’ve realized that life is one big risk in itself, nothing is ever learned from holding yourself back. How can one give themselves away if you are never taking risks and you are allowing fear to control your life. Fear is such a crippling factor in every facet of life and I still haven’t figured out why. In my quest of understanding the human mind and understanding people as arbitrary units, I have found fear to be a governing piece of every single person’s life. No one can say that they aren’t afraid of something, and that that fear hasn’t held them back from pursuing something, or from being themselves truly.
I’m doing my damndest to rid fear from my life and to move forward allowing myself to be vulnerable and weak. There is strength in that ironically. Another chapter in my life closed and I’m on to writing the new masterpiece. A few pages in, it’s already looking good and I can honestly say that I am scared. But I can also honestly say that it’s worth it.
I remember being a little kid. I came into Chicago and I was in awe at the amazement of the city and how big it was. I always knew that I wanted to live in a place that was so busy and that seemed so fun and cool!
Little did I know in a few years time that I would be entertaining a life of vagrancy and adventure in this city. Let alone, with some of the best lifelong friends that I have ever had.
Aside from living in this city and broadening my horizons, I remember one thing specifically. When I was little, coming into the city, I remember seeing everyone on their bikes. I automatically assumed that they were delivery people, putting very secret and important things on their backs and sending them on their way through the city. My mind immediately dismissed any mail service that may potentially exist, and considered them being like the ponies of old. Riding their steeds across a concrete desert sending people important and necessary mailed goods and packages. I remember looking up to these guys. Seeing them and saying to mother, “Those guys are so cool!”.
She would dismiss it as a childish ambition, taking to the likes of whatever was around me and fast paced and fun looking. Perhaps I was molding my future seeing those guys ride around the city, because I never would have imagined becoming a serious biker/delivery boy myself. I didn’t have this realization or correlation until the other day as I was zipping up Michigan Ave on my bike. I had become something that was a childhood dream of mine, in a city that also seemed like a farfetched fantasy life.
Biking has become such an integral part of my life that I can’t see myself not being on a bike. It’s so invigorating and freeing, zooming through the various neighborhoods on my cruiser.
They tell you that you can be whatever you want to be when you grow up, well it’s true, even if that idea is a subconscious thought or process. Even if this lifestyle is for a season, it’s still great. I have learned a lot about myself in the past few months or so, that I wouldn’t have traded them for the biggest opportunities in the world. Drink in the streets, next time you are out there just take a big gulp of air and say to yourself, “It’s good to be alive.”
I witnessed one of the most beautiful things I have seen in my life the other day. Saturday to be exact. I was riding my bike through one of Chicago’s beautiful parks. Enjoying the surroundings and taking in the scenery that is all too hard to come across in a place like this. I found myself enthralled.
I wasn’t alone on this bike ride, nor was I alone in my thoughts either. Engrossed by the beauty. Not the beauty that lay before me, but the beauty that followed behind. There she was, following me as I paved a way through a small oasis in a concrete jungle. Keeping in pace just close enough to feel my presence and still distant enough to read my every move.
Humboldt was our destination, and to Humboldt we went. I found myself nervous and excited about the excursion as a whole. Upon arrival I was cast into a neighborhood culture that not even the likes of Puerto Rico itself could even match. A man stood on the corner with a bike that looked like it had been ridden to the end of it’s life. On the other corner stood a man with a bike that looked like it hadn’t been ridden a day in it’s life. I remember it vividly. It was red, and chrome with streaks of blue. The man wore a white t-shirt tucked into his blue jeans with cowboy boots and a belt with a metal buckle. He didn’t wear a hat, but his mustache spoke louder than any head garment could even shout. I turned to her, I laughed and we rode on. I took her to a spot that I had frequented many times before, until this day I had actually not even explored the rest of the park.
We stopped. She drank in the park. I drank in her presence. We were on a small fishing pier, surrounded by a few teens looking to score the next big catch of the day. We had no lines, we had no poles, we had no bait. We stood. Straddling out mechanical steeds, enjoying the oasis that stretched before us. I remember being simply captivated. The park was beautiful, but it wasn’t even comparable to her.
We rode on. We rode past play grounds, children, trees and bushes. We stopped again, at a place that resonated with her. The boathouse was anything but a disappointment. I do, however, believe that a boat hasn’t left those watery gates for some time now, but the building remains, just as the day it was built. We stood on the shores and pondered the distance of the lake that laid in front of us. “I think that’s about 10 strokes”, she said. I smiled.
We rode along the park a few more times before we headed back toward my stead. Between the baseball teams (they were called “la roca”, the families grilling out and the loud overpowering music my head was full of thoughts. Thoughts so loud that I could hardly hear my own panting from riding. Thoughts that are still swimming as I write.
I remember that day vividly, and I will for a while. Although I never got my horchata, it was still a successful day. I remember it even until the point that it ended. It was a 6:30 train, bound for the northwest reaches of the city. We walked for a good while. Then we rode a bus. By the nick of time we had made it to the train due to fast walking and some jogging. The scenario was delicate. So delicate that I couldn’t even imagine it ending any other way. I stood in the doors of the train, ensuring her boarding, yet guaranteeing one last sign of affection before the doors closed and the metal snake headed off into the distance. We said our goodbyes. I smiled again. Then she was gone. I mounted my bike and rode through the park alone.
A day hasn’t gone by that hasn’t been consumed with thoughts of what could be or what will be. But I can assure you this. This was one of the most significant days I have ever had in my life.
Bottom Lounge Chicago
I was definitely at this show. Went out with them after the show to Portillo’s, it was amazing.
Dinner with my best good friends. (Taken with instagram)