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Photo by @KATEKILGOUR
This is one of my favourite places in Toronto, which maybe says something about Toronto.
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Terminal ave.: NYC (and also Toronto)
I’m not a shopgirl. I work in fashion.
“New York[/Toronto] is such a monolith that it’s pointless to have an opinion about it. It’s like bitching about the weather. It certainly won’t accomplish anything and it certainly won’t make you feel better about what you didn’t like. New York[/Toronto] has a couple of characteristics that are…
(Source: terminalave)
Conditional by Damian Rogers
This is the letter where I explain
how you are a unit of composition.
In a dream, we are riding the Queen
car. It feels like Friday night, passengers
sealed in the foggy promise of potential parties.
You watch a woman wearing red legs
who holds a record crate and a bag with a message.
It reads: I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry Good-bye
For your farewell you filled eight notebooks
with the names of interesting animals.
Humming an old song:
you need me; you’re gone.
If you forgive me for changing seats.
If you forgive me for swearing at the driver.
If you forgive me for carrying my brain
in my head like a glass of black water.
A Siberian Husky slips away from his owner
to sit with me as the drunk man calls out
commands from the front. I can’t believe
my luck.
But the wolf doesn’t love us. He leaves.
In our sleep, I hear you repeat:
I don’t want to get off
at the same stop
This was one of my favourite books as a pre-teen. When I moved to Toronto I wanted it to be the 1920’s. I was at the Palais Royale one of these nights and I didn’t see it. I saw the way it was in the book. It was insane.
I’m trying to focus all of my sadness into positive things. Every girl has a photography stage, right?
