we verge from the highs to the blues each day, on this isolated island in this uninhabited sea, of which few can reach & even fewer can comprehend.

i spend my days google mapping addresses, getting homesick for places that i have never been. places with flags for curtains. places where you can see the heat. places where the roads look like the veins of trees, trickling outwards & reaching towards the sun.

if this was america, those clouds would mean thunder. but here it’s just another normal day.

it’s only 8 o’clock in chicago, and the hand driers at work remind me of home.