It’s funny, well not funny more annoying, that so many thoughts appear throughout the day, screaming to be written down.

Then i sit down to write, and…nothing. Blank. Numb.

That, is the worst thing.

But then sometimes I write a bit - disturb the white silence - some blockage loosens, lets a trickle out…

Early evening,

I walk for an hour through the city to a dinner party with friends.

Autumn in Victoria is not as stunning as Montreal, but lovely still.

(why do I compare everything, always, to mtl? first love i guess)

Already-crushed brown leaves, withered and broken in a street gutter after someone else’s enthusiastic stomp.

The smell of dinners cooking.

When I cross the border into my old neighbourhood, everything is familiar, like I’ve seen it all a thousand times. I have seen it all a thousand, a million times. I know it is beautiful but I hardly see the beauty. I see memories - younger me’s and them’s. Everywhere I look.

It’s strange, writing ‘anonymously’ - I understand the appeal, now.

I can be completely honest and no one will know it’s me?

I feel invisible and completely exposed at the same time.

Maybe next time I’ll say something real. Something I’ve never said out loud before.

Maybe. It’s scary, no?

Best moment in the last week: birthday hug.

My little brother, not so little, now.