In limbo
They say that if you don't let god in... when you die you get stuck in limbo... somewhere between heaving and hell, but not really getting anywhere. That doesn't seem all that bad when I think about it... it's true that you don't get to go the heaven... but you area guarenteed out of hell... just and interesting thought.
I spent the last few months drinking up all the life, joy and festivities that montreal had to offer. There is nothing quite like summer in montreal. Just walking down the streets makes you think you are attending a fashion show with the most chic styles on display on the best looking people. There is always something going on at all hours of the day and one's foot steps are always acompanied by musical rythms. The air is always filled with excitement. I am truly sad to have left this magical city that I have called home for so long.
So what is it like to call a city home? It's not about the length of time you have stayed there, but of the depth in connection that you have with the city. It's about knowing all the little secrets that are hidden from any tourists... Like knowing that the soap in the washroom of costco smells like that of almonds and the best halva dessert comes from a small store near atwater metro. Or that the shortest way to china town is to cut through to the underground via University de quebec's science building. It's about knowing that you can pack up your leftovers in a restaurant and give them to the homeless. ... about how best french restaurant is tucked aware on a quite side street seconds away from downtown and that they serve delicious kidneys with mustard. ... it's the brew pub that brews raspberry, honey or chocolate beer depending on the season and how clubbing in always free (as long as you dress up people give you free passes)... about how an acceptable time to go out in winter is 11pm whereas it's 1am in summer... the list goes on.
Now I am set out to discover new cities... but can't help feeling that no other city can compare to Montreal, mon amore... et j'espere que je peux revenir la.
I am now living on a Chalet on Mt. Washington with green forests and snowy mountains our the window... a far cry from the bright pink night and sky scraper lights. The noise of sirents, people, music and traffic is replaced with the whispers of the wind and chatter of the bird.
Come find me, come make some noise.
I spent the last few months drinking up all the life, joy and festivities that montreal had to offer. There is nothing quite like summer in montreal. Just walking down the streets makes you think you are attending a fashion show with the most chic styles on display on the best looking people. There is always something going on at all hours of the day and one's foot steps are always acompanied by musical rythms. The air is always filled with excitement. I am truly sad to have left this magical city that I have called home for so long.
So what is it like to call a city home? It's not about the length of time you have stayed there, but of the depth in connection that you have with the city. It's about knowing all the little secrets that are hidden from any tourists... Like knowing that the soap in the washroom of costco smells like that of almonds and the best halva dessert comes from a small store near atwater metro. Or that the shortest way to china town is to cut through to the underground via University de quebec's science building. It's about knowing that you can pack up your leftovers in a restaurant and give them to the homeless. ... about how best french restaurant is tucked aware on a quite side street seconds away from downtown and that they serve delicious kidneys with mustard. ... it's the brew pub that brews raspberry, honey or chocolate beer depending on the season and how clubbing in always free (as long as you dress up people give you free passes)... about how an acceptable time to go out in winter is 11pm whereas it's 1am in summer... the list goes on.
Now I am set out to discover new cities... but can't help feeling that no other city can compare to Montreal, mon amore... et j'espere que je peux revenir la.
I am now living on a Chalet on Mt. Washington with green forests and snowy mountains our the window... a far cry from the bright pink night and sky scraper lights. The noise of sirents, people, music and traffic is replaced with the whispers of the wind and chatter of the bird.
Come find me, come make some noise.
posted by fictitious at 2:36 PM
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