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About Chicago

Now, *Moulin Rouge!*—oh, it gets me goin’! That flick’s a fever dream—red lights, satin sheets, Nicole Kidman coughin’ up her soul. “Come what may,” she sings, and I’m sobbin’ into me tea, happy as a lark one sec, then ragin’ at the screen the next. Why? Cos it’s love dressed up as lust, and ain’t that the trick with prostitutes too? You’re payin’ for a dance, a whisper, a “my heart is—oops, time’s up, mate.” Surprised me first time I clocked it—how it’s all theatre, really.

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Anon, on Main Street near Elm & 3rd, there’s a vibe, yea indeed. The houses be quaint as in a medieval fable! I stroll here oft, swiping on my dating app and thinking, "This city’s a mine of serendipitous romance," like in The Hurt Locker when explosions make the heart race—kaboom, emotions exploding everywhere!

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