edge of summer in places I've lived, will live

I immerse myself in the Toronto Star's online sections and in NOW magazine's website, and in Torontoist. I'm reading about the new art installation deep on West Queen West across from the Drake - where I used to live - and Hot Docs, where a unique film glimpse into the Gladstone Hotel's previous life before I partied there is previewing.. I'm gravitating from long distances to where I last felt at home. And I picture it. And then I pull myself out again. And I thought I hated Toronto. The last two years are passing through me like an efflux of water into an old drain, but replacements seem far off like I haven't earned them yet. Korea may just be a means to an end. A voluntary state of apart. Everything's so close behind but so far away now. And sometimes I do just think about moving back to Moncton, having a dog and sitting on the porch.

holding hands and crossing the street at the corner of brock and queen taken with my vintage brownie hawkeye camera