thank youFor every favourite, every comment, every message you sent.
For every bit of support, and the best has been hearing your stories as well.
But especially for reading these.
Thanks guys.
Cheers.
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Rebellion LiesPeople always take pictures of it. Tourists. Like, oooh it’s so tall. I see it everywhere I go. I’m always, always in the shadow of the CN Tower. I’d pay the 15 bucks to go up and hock a loogie off of the top. They’d probably ask me if I had a reservation. It’s like I’m watching a handycam video of someone else’s life. Dull yellow light from the streetlamps and streetcar wires tangled above me in a web. Some guy huddled up in a sleeping bag and taxis honking their horns and people smoking in front of every bar. And the lights of the fucking CN Tower. And I watch my feet as they step across the pavementRebellion Lies
by ~thirtysixdegrees
When The Stars Go BlueThe cars move along, like slugs Matthew Good would say. But I guess they’re going at least 100 clicks. Lights over this barren fucking landscape. Fire escapes and graffiti and boarded up convenience stores. But I still love the lights, always have. When I was little, leaving Toronto at night, after a ball game or a trip to the theatre, I’d arch my head back all the way, trying to take in the massive amounts of lights. My favourite spot is by the Molson Amphitheatre, where the whole city shines off the water.When The Stars Go Blue
The city is my home, more so than anywhere else I’ve been. This city is also the loneliest place in the worl
by ~thirtysixdegrees
I Wanna Be Your BoyfriendI finally got you onto a bed. Not into one. Onto one. We’re sitting here on the edge, twisting blankets in our hands and staring straight ahead, refusing to make contact. Or at least I am. I thought I’d kiss you if I were ever in a spot like this. What do they say about best-laid plans? Crashing and burning? I don’t know. We’re sitting here on a bed. This used to be my bed. A year or so ago. This was my room. The walls are stripped of my Clash posters, and my laundry is noticeably gone, but yep, it was mine. I had a few girls in this bed. I see the headboard’s still broken. Heh. But I don’t think of you like thatI Wanna Be Your Boyfriend
by ~thirtysixdegrees
Friday I'm In LoveThe candle's long burned out and my cigarette has turned to a rail of ashes with my neglect. Sighing, I pop off the headphones and lift up the needle. And I lay. The sounds of Queen St West outside my window, which is just traffic and drunks but it could lull you to sleep. Justine's passed out in the next room. Told me to help myself to her Jager and her vinyl, as long as I wore the headphones. Best friend a gal could ask for. It's about 5 am and the sky is a sleepy grey-blue, so I can still make out the time. I stretch out on the cold hardwood floor and my fingers reach up and graze the body of Justine's bass, glinting off the streetlights.Friday I'm In Love
by ~thirtysixdegrees
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