its official. im pretty much as grown up as an adult who colors in my coloring book, in front of a bonfire can be. i'm not a whiny self absorbed art school kid walking through cabrini green at night because it was a short cut from wicker park. and with a mohawk and a dont give a fuck attitude. didnt matter what happened. and nothing did either. i didnt have money to steal. and i dressed the same way. although it was a fashion statement.
i did grow up as a truckdriver. i should say raised. im still not really a grown up yet. i live in the bsmt (garden apt). i don't know why they call it a garden apartment. its impossible to grow anything down here. including people. but as i watch "chicken run" with the boys. who wants to grow up anyway?
but i own property now. and on the west side of chicago. rumor was that the inhabitants of cabrini green moved out to the west side. but who starts these rumors anyway? and how could i confirm it anyway. i'm a hermit who works on my art. i used to be lonely as a truck driver, but it changed my personality. so now i hide out and work on my design, art, rehab, building maintenance, noticing the neighbors leaking gas meter the day after i enjoyed a nighttime bonfire in the back yard.
is this the ghetto? i have heard of more shootings in a neighborhood further north than i have heard about out here. i think the most death out here comes from overdosing. it is sad to me the amount of people who don't care about their lives anymore than to waste it on drugs. but who am i to talk. i smoked a bit of weed for the first time in awhile last night. i dont usually, i get drug tested for work. and i dont like spending all my time a slave to something. but then again these roll your own cigarettes from the corner store are costing me more in lung tissue than they are saving me money. maybe i should buy some cartons when i go see family for christmas. i could sell non menthol sqares on the corner for 50 cents like the corner boys do.
that would diversify things. but i dont have the time to stand around. i should say that i don't choose to. i would rather make art than hang out with the guys. probably why i can laugh at my overly co-ordinated outfit and know that they aren't giving me my truck driver's card back on anything more than a probationary period. im not wearing the right outfit. and im referring to it as an outfit.
but i dont need the kicks of winter-driving an eighteen wheeler through the mountains in the winter time. i've put on snow chains in the colorado vail area before. now i get my kicks by walking through "the ghetto" wearing a suit and shiny shoes to go apply for a design job at my design pimp's last minute christmas party.
i don't get fucked with. it makes me feel like the neighborhood is changing. i don't get asked if i am looking, i just miss my bus and stop into dr j's for a beer and enjoy the blues. but feel uncomfortable about the change that is following me. every place i've lived in chicago winds up going to the yuppies after i leave.
i'm not trying to bring the yuppies. im glad they aren't here. i moved out here to get away from all that. i just own property now, so its hard not to feel happy when i see the homes selling to actual families and moving away from the investors. because it is the investors house that had the gas leak. and the contractor who works there could really care less. he just needs to make alot more money in a week than i have ever needed to make.
but i guess i have simple tastes these days. i want to just invest in my kids future. and make money off my art. and maybe share what i found with other punks. who want to prove something by walking through the hood with a mohawk. i feel like they are wasting a perfect marketing oportunity by not advertising people to go green on the green line. because the parks out here are beautiful in their potential.
but look people in the eyes when you little art school kids come out here. this isn't the north side. we look each other in the eye to size up how they would do in a fight. like men. not looking at the ground because even a vocal confrontation would be uncomfortable.