Clairaudience

It's that time of year when trees grow emotions and die... and I find myself less of a stranger in my own head. Consider yourself lucky if you think of your own as home.

The Second City stage is amazing. All of the pain and insecurity disappeared the instant I cleared my throat to speak their names.

She sings Kings of Leon at the top of her lungs. The cold weather will soon be ebbing through her veins. I once loved her in a way that only stool pigeons understand. There must have been so much hope in that morphine drip. I'm no longer failure's advocate.

Take The Blue Line to Damen

Back from the dead. I had that dream again where my own heart was sketched to look like nothing more than a clinched fist. You were trying to read my bleeding palm so I smeared it across a billboard just to remind us both that love is a role we play.

Wicker Park bound. Prepared to awake gold coated and wandering amongst the silver lined stories. Overcoming the reclusiveness of Pynchon.... we've all been dying for new outlets.

The ties that bind merely scratched our wrists in the last few months. Here's to the windy city and the ghosts of our futures.