5.27.2025

I have a certain Russian dictator in a choke hold and I'm saying some action movie shit like 'Death is too good for you' when I'm woken up by a loud crash. My laptop has tumbled off the bed and it took the miniature cooling tower on the jerry-rigged table with it. There are hazards to this kind of living. Now I'm up two hours earlier than I'd planned and I decide to go buy a pair of shorts. It's gonna be 20-40 Celsius degrees warm today. I have no business shopping in any country. But I've learned it's good to touch clothes before you wear them. My walk to the train is uneventful. It's sunny as hell and I don't trust my senses. The city bursting with color and music and French laughter. I've come to know Montreal as a Gothic and gloomy place and I thought we had an understanding. This cheerful aesthetic feels forced and it doesn't affect everyone. Even in the sunshine there will be a couple looking how I remember Soviets being depicted in American propaganda, holding each other by the elbows, stumbling like they're walking into a snowstorm. And a lot of folks dress all in black whatever the circumstance. There was a comic arts festival over the weekend. The street was closed to traffic and there were vivid images everywhere, little kids' drawing classes, interviews with effusively nerdy graphic artists. I checked out about ten of the booths but didn't buy anything. I still have this hangup about acquiring physical books, like I know I might have to ditch them at some point. Moving to another neighborhood again next week. You learn to live with less. You stop fantasizing about your old furniture and make tables out of step stools and shelves. You still wish you had your own bicycle.