Today, the rain was somehow so similar to snow. I could feel it. Listening to Godspeed, I could sense Montreal while waiting for the bus. My thoughts have been loose and I’m lost. Into the deepest of my own, I can barely stand the feeling that I don’t know what I’ve done or thought against what I’ve been dreamed about.
I’m late and this is a continuum. But I can’t tell I haven’t been able to prioritize. Buses are just so fucking horrible. It’s school break and I didn’t take this into account.
No. No umbrella for me. I like the feeling of this drizzle on my hair. It’s not enough rain to interfere on my phone’s touch screen. Fair enough. No bus. No bus. I’ll be damn late.
Time for a shelter. Fucking stupid public transportation. Fuckin mafia.
No. It was not.
Another one in the corner. Maybe….
I took it as I used to do everyday. How pretty and stressful commutes can be. It’s just a question of having time for it.
My hip is odd. Better, it’s just like any other humid day of pain. My back is on fire, distressed and unquiet. It talks to me every minute while I ignore it and try to dismiss this weird conversation and the alert.
Oh. I’ll be late. Godamn.
Weirdos alike, I feel safe. Godspeed, oh Godspeed, you give me explosions in the sky and Le soleil sort de la bouche.
Canada Canada. I ain’t be your son.