It has always been about LOVE

In a moment of clarity. I think about life. I think about building a miniature house. Some one let me out onto the city of Chicago. Pase por la Roosevelt and Damen. Turn unto Damen to go to my sister-in-laws house. We celebrate tonight. It is her husbands birthday.

I return to the miniature house as I reach the viaduct on Damen by 18th. I contemplate building the house Maxwell Street Style. CC informs me that there is a kit to be able to do it easier. I want to install working lights and all that jazz.

I pass by a park and reflect on one of my ealiest memories. It is Eckhart Park on Chicago and Noble. I used to play with a little girl names America. I was about 4-5 years of age. It was one of those nice nights out and I have been playing on the swings and the jungle gym with her. She is my best friend. I can not even begin to tell you what our conversation were like. I am sure there was a lot of running and laughing and maybe playing "it". It is getting dark. It is time to say goodbye. She then tells me that she will not be able to play with me anymore. I ask why. She tells me that she will be moving somewhere else. I get real sad and cry. Needless to say. This is one of my earliest memories of what love is. I'm sure it was an innocent love, but it was love nonetheless.

Cut to me living dangerously trying to write the memory down while still driving over to my sister-in-laws house. I am nuts for sure. After all Sonrisa said it best, "It is always about Santiago".