3.31.2025

This will be my last night in Le Studio Triste. A few hours ago I was on my back staring at the ceiling willing it to burst into flames or in some other way injure the guy upstairs who was actually moving furniture around at 3:30 AM. It didn't work and I surely would have been a casualty myself if it had. In my calculus at the time that would've been fine. Preferable, even.

As such I feel outwardly skeletal. And yeah I had in the noise cancelling earbuds with a white noise loop cranked to hell so keep your victim blaming to yourself.

As such I feel inwardly testy as well.

Collective office space for transients. I don't know if hobo is offensive when referring to transients. Either way it describes me. Riding invisible electric rails and sometimes iron ones.

The way space and time are related. This neighborhood was unknowable to me a few weeks ago. Now I know that that place over there is on East not West Mont Royal and it's always crowded but the sandwiches are worth the wait and to always order extra sauce. Also that East and West and all other ordinals are relevant only to each other in this city which is one of its many surreal charms, like how the parks feel safe at night.

It's been so long since I sat in a real office I'm not sure what to do with myself. Do I officiate? I should probably find ways to make money. I saw some hats in a shop window. If you put a hat on the floor and dance a little dance folks will throw toonies in there. I saw it over on Rue Duluth. That lady was a pretty talented dancer though and dressed for it.

*Guest Artist: BK, from the series 'An Organized Trainwreck'
https://www.instagram.com/design__by__bk?igsh=cXBpZXpyem9najdh
(artist bio appears in the 3.28.2025 Weekly Digest)