Mogwai

The mornings have become brisk again but the sun has not let us down in weeks. My mornings are filled with the usual gas station cup of coffee, marlboros and a lumber pile now covered in leaves. They fall on me all day long while the sawdust grabs onto every thread of me but it's beautiful really. The simple pleasures of a working mans day. I've been listening to lots of Mogwai before the day heats up, it reminds me of the falls of past and my memories are itched by the scents of seasons change.

As the day ends the tailgate goes up and the sun looks tired but it still treats you to one last skyline paradise as you tug the blue dream and put her in drive. I let the dream and Mogwai pick the route home today, took a really long time. I love Chicago, especially in the fall. Soon everybody will look pissed and the buildings will shiver with lit chimneys. I don't want to be cold, ever.