The Essence Of Spring Nights

Me in a toque

Go out­side. Right now.

It’s dark. It’s cool. It’s breezy. Grass has replaced the snow. Walking down­town, the smell of shawarma from every Lebanese restau­rant, the peo­ple shed­ding their coats, the sur­fac­ing skin, it’s as if the world is bloom­ing while the sun has set.

All I want is for you to be here with me. To share this moment with you.

It’s a pity to be alone on nights like this.

Finishing Last

At least this means I’m a nice guy.

Machine Gun Anthem

I saw a sav­ior
A sav­ior come my way
I thought I’d see it
In the cold light of day
But now I real­ize that I’m
Only for me

If only I could see
Return myself to me
And rec­og­nize the poi­son
In my heart

There is no other place
No one else I face
The rem­edy to agree
With how I feel

This beat, it moves you. It dri­ves a spike into your heart, ham­mer­ing impa­tiently — BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM — like 1,000,000 volts surg­ing through your chest to sixteenth-notes in a bar, and you’re left twitch­ing, won­der­ing how you’ll ever start your day with­out this again. It hits your ears like a wall of sound, with the synth ris­ing up, fill­ing your soul, and lead­ing your life.

This machine gun is an anthem.

The Ways We Grow Up

I remem­ber Christie once telling me that she always wanted to bring presents to someone’s house at Christmas. We were wait­ing at the train sta­tion to Toronto, our exams fin­ished, doing exactly that. Carrying bags with a fon­due set, maybe a can­dle holder, and other assorted mis­cel­lany for my par­ents who already had everything.

As a seventeen-year-old with an adorable baby-face, she was rarely taken seri­ously as a mature and respon­si­ble per­son. I could tell that hav­ing this hol­i­day tra­di­tion was her way of feel­ing like an adult. Not the gro­cery shop­ping we would do, not the lin­gerie she would wear for me, or even the act of love itself, but a fam­ily to go to, gifts to give, a house to stay in, a lit­tle piece of matu­rity.

Honda Civic 2008 exterior

Honda Civic 2008 dashboard

Honda Civic 2008 exterior

For me, it’s this car.

Not the bills. Not the house. Not the mortgage.

It’s being able to get any­where. It’s feel­ing these keys in my pocket and know­ing that they’re mine. It’s dri­ving home after class when it’s dark out, blast­ing a night mix on the stereo. It’s even look­ing for a park­ing spot down­town on a Monday after­noon, or get­ting stuck in traffic.

It’s hav­ing all these things that I’ve never had before.

The Choice

I’m in a bad way

My sleep­ing sched­ule is upside down. I’m lovesick. I’m heart­bro­ken. I can’t eat any­thing with­out shit­ting blood. My lips are chapped. My teeth keep graz­ing my canker sore. I’m break­ing out. I’m dread­ing another day of work.

These are the times I truly feel alone. I’ve never been very good at tak­ing care of myself.

But I’d still rather be alone, than be with you.