Dreams
The fog downtown was a sight, so thick buildings would disappear completely. Walking down St-Laurent, I looked up to see the Desjardins sign: it was so fuzzy it almost looked like the moon. The 30 minute walk to the night bus was pleasant, the rain helped. Its a strange thought that in February you can walk with your coat open and your hair drenched and feel good about it...
I told myself I wasn't going to but I did anyways. Didn't say anything meaningful, nothing I wanted to say, just had that urge to share the moment and it always falls on him for some reason.
Missed the night bus by 10 minutes so I prepped myself for the 50 minute wait. Sitting in the shelter, out of the rain, the wetness started to seep in; my jeans were wet to the knees, my hair soaked, my jacked and sweater damp. I've always loved the sound of rain falling...
Jon pointed out that people always come talk to me, and yesterday was no exception. First a woman came to ask for a cigarette, told me she was from Vancouver, that she came here looking for her 14 year old daughter, that she spent a lot of time in jail and that she had gotten into a fight with the taxi driver. I listened to her talk without commenting; my input didn't seem necessary. In the end she asked me for rolling paper and when I told her I didn't have any, she headed off. Fabio called and offered to come pick me up. I told him he didn't have to, that I didn't mind taking the night bus but he insisted.
A few minutes later a man came in. I don't know why people like telling me their life story.. He spoke in broken english and said he was from Dubai originally, but he had just come here from Toronto. He told me he had just finished his work shift, and started telling me some story about a man being stabbed waiting for the bus. He talked about his troubles making money in his country, and how here you need to chase after people so they pay you. He told me that from my eyes he could tell that I was tired. I told him that I was, that after I sat down all the emotions, the enthusiasm left me and I just felt drained and wet. He laughed. He said some girls get weird when people talk to them.
The night bus and Fabio showed up at the same time, so I wished the man a good evening. Once home I didn't bother to turn on any lights, just stopped long enough to brush my teeth, strip off the wet clothes and crawl into bed. Loki, looking for affection crawled right on top of me but when he noticed I was dead to the world, he curled up by my side instead. I lay there for a while feeling exhausted but unable to sleep.
When sleep finally came, it came broken, fragmented and filled with weird dreams. Every hour or so I would become aware I was awake, trying to hold on to fragments of my dreams to no avail. The only one that stayed was the last one...
I lived in a large apartment block by the beach, with friends in the buildings nearby. It was at once semi-futuristic and old looking, like the way they portray Miami in the 70s, the areas where the glamour has began to fade in peeling, sun-bleached paint. The day was gorgeous, with clear blue skies and a warm sun. It was supposed to be winter but the city officials had a machine that could let them control the weather.
My friends and I were hanging out; I remember we had a couple of beers and I went home to sleep. The next time I woke up, I found myself in my friend's bed. When I walked out of their bedroom, I found them all waiting for me, looking worried. They told me they found me laying outside, passed out on the boardwalk. I had been missing for a day, a day I had no recollection of. I told them I had to go home. When I got outside, the sky was a brooding grey, in the midst of an electric storm. There appeared to be a massive power failure, and people had set up fires on the sidewalk to cook food and keep warm. The short walk back to my apartment found me doubting my friends, feeling unable to trust them.
Right in front of my apartment door, someone had been cooking beans in a beat up pot on a makeshift camp fire... For some reason, I couldn't help but feel like the world was ending.
I told myself I wasn't going to but I did anyways. Didn't say anything meaningful, nothing I wanted to say, just had that urge to share the moment and it always falls on him for some reason.
Missed the night bus by 10 minutes so I prepped myself for the 50 minute wait. Sitting in the shelter, out of the rain, the wetness started to seep in; my jeans were wet to the knees, my hair soaked, my jacked and sweater damp. I've always loved the sound of rain falling...
Jon pointed out that people always come talk to me, and yesterday was no exception. First a woman came to ask for a cigarette, told me she was from Vancouver, that she came here looking for her 14 year old daughter, that she spent a lot of time in jail and that she had gotten into a fight with the taxi driver. I listened to her talk without commenting; my input didn't seem necessary. In the end she asked me for rolling paper and when I told her I didn't have any, she headed off. Fabio called and offered to come pick me up. I told him he didn't have to, that I didn't mind taking the night bus but he insisted.
A few minutes later a man came in. I don't know why people like telling me their life story.. He spoke in broken english and said he was from Dubai originally, but he had just come here from Toronto. He told me he had just finished his work shift, and started telling me some story about a man being stabbed waiting for the bus. He talked about his troubles making money in his country, and how here you need to chase after people so they pay you. He told me that from my eyes he could tell that I was tired. I told him that I was, that after I sat down all the emotions, the enthusiasm left me and I just felt drained and wet. He laughed. He said some girls get weird when people talk to them.
The night bus and Fabio showed up at the same time, so I wished the man a good evening. Once home I didn't bother to turn on any lights, just stopped long enough to brush my teeth, strip off the wet clothes and crawl into bed. Loki, looking for affection crawled right on top of me but when he noticed I was dead to the world, he curled up by my side instead. I lay there for a while feeling exhausted but unable to sleep.
When sleep finally came, it came broken, fragmented and filled with weird dreams. Every hour or so I would become aware I was awake, trying to hold on to fragments of my dreams to no avail. The only one that stayed was the last one...
I lived in a large apartment block by the beach, with friends in the buildings nearby. It was at once semi-futuristic and old looking, like the way they portray Miami in the 70s, the areas where the glamour has began to fade in peeling, sun-bleached paint. The day was gorgeous, with clear blue skies and a warm sun. It was supposed to be winter but the city officials had a machine that could let them control the weather.
My friends and I were hanging out; I remember we had a couple of beers and I went home to sleep. The next time I woke up, I found myself in my friend's bed. When I walked out of their bedroom, I found them all waiting for me, looking worried. They told me they found me laying outside, passed out on the boardwalk. I had been missing for a day, a day I had no recollection of. I told them I had to go home. When I got outside, the sky was a brooding grey, in the midst of an electric storm. There appeared to be a massive power failure, and people had set up fires on the sidewalk to cook food and keep warm. The short walk back to my apartment found me doubting my friends, feeling unable to trust them.
Right in front of my apartment door, someone had been cooking beans in a beat up pot on a makeshift camp fire... For some reason, I couldn't help but feel like the world was ending.