Destiny

A dream. Everything in my life is so sudden. Glowing fish and black lights. There were people I knew everywhere, some who filled me up with happiness so I wanted to cry, some who filled me with disgust with comments like "you're too good for here anyway." What the fuck does that mean anyway? This is where I'm from; this is me. I never forget my roots and I still manage to adapt. A speck in a sea of people. Jagamela Paramatma Evarito Moralidudu. And they gossip - they told him I talked shit about him. Argh, I stormed out at the end of the night.

I sat down on the sidewalk with a slice of hot margherita pizza and pondered over life in the soft drizzle. When things are meant to happen, they just do, they click. Like this. All this began a week ago, then gained momentum and here it is now, going full steam ahead. I'm quite relaxed really - all the pieces are just dropping into place. I just need to prod them a little et voila! I believe this is called destiny.

Success!

And when what you've desired so desperately is handed to you on a silver platter... I can't really describe what it feels like. You have to experience it for yourself.



El hombre que no se casa
no sabe de cosa buena
Tiene que sabei bucaila
que no le saiga chiflera

The New World

Do you not see that I struggle so? In your land, I might seem to be doubly skilled owing to the fact that I know much of here and much of there. I am caught somewhere in the middle and while to you it may seem like I have the best of both worlds, to me it's hell because I fit neither here, nor there.

Desire

Desire is such a strange thing. It overcomes me, blinds me so that I cannot focus on what is and I keep pondering over what could be. But it's true that it might never happen. But if it did, oh man, I think I'd be in bliss. I concoct fantasies of what life will be like although the chances are slim. Do you like me? I wish I could find out immediately but alas, today's not the day, tomorrow won't be either and then I must return to visit the parents on the blasted weekend. Oh, this torturous desire!

Impressions

And so begins a month of lies. No, a year of lies I've told. Ugly venial sins. Somewhere in your syrupy embrace glared at me my cheating heart. Somewhere in those puppy-like eyes became apparent to me your vulnerability. And it revolted me. I couldn't bear to be - depended on. It is what we fear the most that becomes our obsession for if we weren't to fear it, we'd be indifferent to it. If my faith were so strong, then it wouldn't be so fickle. I saw you crumble but I didn't want to hold you together fear of being clung on to. You've put me up on a pedestal and I'd prefer just to fade into nothingness, lost in a blue mist of oblivion. My memory's getting hazy as reality becomes fantasy, a morphed view of the world. And when you beg me to take you back, I push you away all the more. And your needs turn violent. You snarl and you rage and then you shrink back into your docile self. After a moment of quiet, you speak once more and gently you remind me that soon Katie will call and then she'll say, "there's good love out there, just you wait, you wait."

Nuit Blanche!

C'était incroyable! I was ditched so I went off alone, curious to see what the city had in store for me. In comparison to big arthouses like Paris - the city where it was conceived - and Montreal - which has art flowing through its arteries - Toronto is but a fledgling in the art scene. It all started in Yorkville against the stark backdrop of plain concrete skyscrapers mostly built during the 60s and 70s littered with cranes upon cranes that are busy constructing condos and the new Four Seasons.

The walking tour of the city struck my fancy mostly because I could never imagine a walking tour of... well, Toronto. But it was fascinating and yes, I shall show off my newly acquired knowledge of the city. Did all of you know that there used to be a cemetary where the Pottery Barn now stands (note to self: don't buy anything from Pottery Barn) or that the land where Mississauga stands today was bought from the Natives at the beginning of the 19th century for $2000?

It wasn't even midnight yet and the night had totally drawn me in, such was the energy being exuded by the city. As the walking tour drew to an end, I ran into people I knew and we decided to grab a bite to eat. A few drunken hours later, we were all ready to resume our exploration.

The highlights of the night were definitely the fog exhibit and the ballroom which was like a high-school prom with disco balls and lights and prom-like music with thousands of balls thrown in and a ball fight. What fun! You know you're evil when you secretly target those who are standing on the fringes of the action and then hide so they don't know who's throwing the ball at them.

This was just what I'd expected from Toronto! Toronto isn't Paris and it didn't try to be. The tangoing couples, though offering an impeccable performance, were dressed as policemen/policewomen and blasted the music from their cars. It totally had the feel of impromptu performance, spellbinding yet natural.

I didn't make it home till the wee hours of the morning. I stood at the bus stop watching the faint light of dawn starting to creep up at the horizon and chatted with my university friend who is leaving in 10 days to become a priest, and I felt spiritual, artistic, fulfilled.