Condo Erection


My attention lingers on the view outside where a bit of modern magic is taking place. A high-rise condo is in what seems to be its final stages of construction and we’ve shared every complicated step.

I have often found myself thinking, “Wow Buddy, your balls are definitely bigger than mine!” In response to work conditions that had to be breaking safety codes somewhere and required extended periods of time out in our beloved Canadian winter temperatures.

There used to be nothing right in that spot and now there is a large tower made of cement, metal and glass. It’s like watching experimental dance…

This guy on this side is doing the exact same thing as the other guy all the way on the opposite side of the building and they can’t even see or speak to each other. They might be working at a different pace but they are still making the same exact movements and motions together, at the same time. They are connected, working toward an ultimate goal, possibly never even having met. 

The road may be long, but perseverance and hard work gets the job done.

What kind of moments will take place between these newly fabricated pristine walls? Too much to try to imagine. A clean slate, a new beginning, the possibilities are endless…

We are all under construction. Transforming, changing, hopefully moving forward while the broken parts and scabs have a chance to heal.

Letting go of old routines or patterns, retraining thought processes that no longer serve your greater good. Keeping on the path that leads to realizing your dreams, once you figure out what the fuck your true dreams actually are.

Yesterday, I prematurely went for a run with a bandaged, injured foot. Being mildly addicted to my workouts, I wasn’t going to let anything delay progress.

“Well hello masochistic side of myself, nice to finally meet you! I have been waiting impatiently to be introduced. I always knew you were standing there at the other end of the room, but I wasn’t quite ready to face you just yet.”

The road may be long… soon even this broken part will heal.


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Spadina’s Tunnel

I made the mistake of coming to Toronto’s Eaton Center on a Saturday. Why did I do that? Oh well, buying stuff is always a mood booster, right? The loud click of my boots hitting the tile echoed the full length of Spadina subway’s tunnel. A musician was playing Metallica’s,” Nothing else matters” as random liquids leaked from dirty cracks at every corner. It’s been 8 long months and I feel like I’m slowly going insane. In the days immediately following this post, you may catch a glimpse of my face on the news for violently attacking a small Portuguese man.  I will creep quietly downstairs and hammer his greasy little face off. How at this point is there even anything left to be done to the building? He has had enough time to tear it down with us still living in it and rebuild it all from scratch. Never ever take peace & quiet for granted because living without it really is impossible. I happened to mention that I was apartment hunting the other day in a relatively trendy salon on the Ossington strip. Everyone stopped what they were doing and collectively turned their heads to one side and gave me their cutest sad face. We live in Toronto and they sure knew what I was talking about!

Day 247. I wake up from sticky sleeplessness in a puddle of blue droplets forming a pattern on my pillow. He is still hammering…..

A little over a month till we move and I don’t think I’ve ever been so excited. We could be moving into a sewer at this point and I would still be thrilled. I’ve had the urge to carry mace since we moved to Toronto. Occasionally, riding the subway and in some of the sketchier neighbourhoods like ours, you can definitely experience what dangerous, ghetto OMG I’m about to get fucking stabbed moments might feel like. Not making eye contact & fast paced walking become your best friend. Walking around the ‘hood alone in yoga pants simply is not an option. Some brotha’s sure do love dem da round bootay! The amount of effort I would have to exert to avoid being sexually harassed every 3 minutes just isn’t worth it. Our new place is in the same neighbourhood as what used to be known in the 90’s as, “Crack Tower.” Hmmmmmm….Need I say more? This is the picture of Toronto. A bunch of very different things all thrown into a blender and the product is a varied mix of everything.  A halfway house, a fancy new condo building, a café that exists only to serve as a mob front & a row of lovely green manicured lawns belonging to some large, famously over priced homes all on the same block. It’s time to say goodbye. I’m glad one of us didn’t key their car. There are some miserable money hungry people in this world. People who are the very clear example that there should be a course taught on how to be a proper human being.  How one should conduct themselves when in relations with, other human beings. Does a final big, “Fuck you” ever really make any situation better?  I think I’m about to find out…


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