Toronto
I love this city. It tantalizes all five of my senses every day and night. I have spent much more time outdoors lately, since I opted to ride my bicycle as my primary method of transportation (this has saved me money and now I'm finally out of the hole). It is thus that I have developed a new and much more intimate relationship with Toronto.
It's part of me, now. It's in my lungs. Toronto clogs up my head. It's in my raccoon wounds. It has become my exoskeleton. I wear city grit, breathing Toronto smog, charging on my valiant 18-speed down Yonge Street during the morning rush hour, invincible and defiant, despite the duct tape holding the brake handle mount in place. I speed home on Bloor street after dark, incrementally absorbing motor oil and acid rain as the tires of my 18-speed release water from the pavement onto my legs and backside.
We live together, we breathe together and we sleep together, Toronto and I.
It's part of me, now. It's in my lungs. Toronto clogs up my head. It's in my raccoon wounds. It has become my exoskeleton. I wear city grit, breathing Toronto smog, charging on my valiant 18-speed down Yonge Street during the morning rush hour, invincible and defiant, despite the duct tape holding the brake handle mount in place. I speed home on Bloor street after dark, incrementally absorbing motor oil and acid rain as the tires of my 18-speed release water from the pavement onto my legs and backside.
We live together, we breathe together and we sleep together, Toronto and I.