Man Without A Country

Do you remember the story of Benedict Arnold? When I was a wee one they had the story (either in a history book or a short story) with a picture of him standing on the deck of a ship gazing at the shore with desire. "The Man Without A Country" I think it was called. Well, I remember just looking at that picture and feeling pretty damn sorry for old Arnie. Granted he got a dish named after him for posterity, but nothing can beat some good ol' terra firma. I thought that that was the saddest thing I had ever seen, forever on a ship, no one wants you, etc.

Right now I feel a tad bit like that bloke. I just got back to Rockford, but it all feels out of sorts. Chicago is the same way. Its like my soul is wandering around the cold plains of Illinois wondering where the fuck my body got to. In Chicago the place where I feel the most at home is on the train, watching a lot of people in transit. Know one really knows how to act, where to look, or not to look, and who the hell is this guy sitting next to me. I feel about the same. My sister's place is a dirty and nasty. It's not her fault but her room mate's. Granted she has a lot of cool decorum but it's cluttered about, and no one could even try to clean. It's a cacophany. I wouldn't mind if it was cluttered like some of the apartments in Woody Allen movies. You know stacks of books, framed artwork perched precariously upon a shelf, paper's strewn everywhere, and the like. In fact, to me that's cozy. I guess the environment isn't benefitting from two dogs, two actresses and a maladjusted male sleeping on a lumpy couch. I just need some clean lines, ya know? It doesn't help that my sister's roomie is a tad premiscuous(where's spell check when you need it?). Last night me and my sister had to steer clear of the apartment while she was getting naked pictures of herself taken by this taboo photographer. I guess he's really big on photographing naked girls pretending to be dead. That and girls having orgasms (it seems like he is way to into this whole western way of thinking, eastern thought would put those two seemingly contradictary themes in the same catagory). There's all kinds of people out there, and even if ya don't like um too much you have to get by.

Well, I might be out of there this week. There's a furnished room for weekly rent four blocks from Wrigley. I know it's going to be ala Bukowski in it's appearance, but hey, I might just get some peace.