I like this picture because it reminds me of Chicago. He has a bag, maybe he's coming home from a business trip, or work, or a midnight meeting with his exotic mistress that dances at a place by the airport who's named Destiny, Desire, Candy, Brandy or Coco. I don't know and I don't care, I'm curios, but I don't really care. I would never ask him about it. That sums up the city, you pass homeless people, mentally sick people, just people in general, and you're curios but you don't really care. There is a barrier we put up in the city between us and other people, we cant see it but it's as solid as the steel door that separated myself and this man.
Some day it would be awesome to have a job where things are painted on glass doors. When people get fired the janitor would have come scrape their names off of the door. I would like the janitor to be polish and have a mustache as thick as his hilarious accent. Anyway, I just enjoying looking at this one.
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