Over the course of the past six weeks I have probably walked more than in my entire life. By the way, I love it. It has gotten a bit mundane taking the same routes to the same places just for the sake of timing and punctuality, but when I’m not pressed for time, I like to mix it up and take the scenic routes.

Walking in the city is so much different than walking in burbs. I would walk to the library or walk my dog and, Lord Jesus, was it boring! All the houses are the same. I did a reading for my English class earlier today and the author compared houses to unnecessary elaborate boxes. Unnecessary is a little too intense, but if you think about it, it’s true. All the houses in the suburbs, at least, are the same elaborate boxes. Two maybe three stories high, roughly the same square footage, brick walls, large windows, long driveways, freshly manicured lawns, trimmed trees, watered gardens, maybe a pool, and a dog or two. If you’ve walked passed one house, you’ve walked passed them all.

In the city, everything is so jumbled. On one corner you have this beautifully modern atrium, and then, right next to it, rests this ancient red brick building that might as well have survived the Chicago Fire or at least been built immediately afterward. There are high rises beside two flats, farmers markets amidst stock markets, and yellow taxis crossing bridges above water taxis on the river below. The juxtaposition of everyday life with leisure life is so prevalent that they are one in the same. Everyone is running errands, running to work, or just running to run.

I love the miss-match of everything. Everything is so out of place that it’s exactly where it should be. When one building is torn down and replaced with another no one notices yet everyonoe notices all at once. The people miss what used to be there, but chances are that whatever new has come in its place with serve a new bennefit to those in close proximity.

I like to find the beauty in everything. Even if there is something I absolutely despise, there’s a good chance that there is something about it that I love. I don’t think there is anything about Chicago tht anyone can possibly hate. Or, if you can manage irrefutable hatred toward Chicago, there is so much pilled on top of itself that you would need to be extremely fargone as to not discover something worhtwhile within her city limits.

My friend and I have a joke when it’s really foggy outside. When the fog is so thick that you can no longer seen the skyline, we say, “Chicago’s gone… she’s hiding”. Not only does Chicago hide from us, she is a great place to hide from whatever we are running from also. You can easily get lost in all the busy-ness, but the only way to really find yourself is to get lost… And what better city to be lost-then-found than Chicago?

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