the space after the fireworks end & the fountains turn off for the night & the bells swing themselves to quiet
can’t believe i am already packing to leave montreal. in one blink i’ve lived entire lifetimes. get me back here, ASAP.
walking through parc la fontaine is like a haunted house except with babes on bikes and music and tiny happy animals instead of scary stuff.
so my first item of business when i move to montreal is to become a regular at the dollar theatre in the abandoned mall on decarie. it’s cash only and admission is 2.50 (except on tuesday evenings when it is free) and all the pop/popcorn/candy/cupcakes are one dollar. the four theatres are old school with low sitting velvety seats that are spaced widely apart, and the dude at the counter has...
so hey, you got 30000 bucks kickin around to fund me attending the trauma and violence transdisciplinary studies ma at nyu? CUZ I WAS JUST ACCEPTED. yknow, dare to dream, or whatever.
one day in
so hey montreal, thanks for the perfect place to live in september with one of my oldest bestest bro friends. wanna be as kind with the impending job search, or is that too much to ask? please and thank you.
au revoir limbo
didn’t get into the program in germany. so…who’s looking for a roomie in montreal for september?
the ghost as the familiar and the stranger. you know you haunt me too, right? supposedly it is the guise we recognise, as there is supposedly little else (beneath the armour). but what of spectral voices? only echoes? our desires? what sounds from beneath the shade? i’ve said love letters are ghost stories. now i wonder about love stories?
b-boys in the montreal canadiens movie theatre concourse. photobooths and park benches galore. music everywhere all the time. all. the. time. all. the. love. in. the. world. montreal, it will be impossible to let you go.
l’os et le bleu des questions froler le territoire de quand j’etais...– musee de l’os et de l’eau, nicole brossard (i’ve really gotta figure out how to put accents from my blackberry…desole.)
lady friend just called me ‘fearless.’
venus in cancer
‘sometimes i just want a plan; i don’t know where to put my heart.’
dear montreal, at first your advances were sort of lovely and timely, but the man accosting me at 630am in the metro was a bit of a bold move. i thought you were getting gutsy with the man who followed me into the supermarket to ask for my phone number, or the dude who only stopped sitting beside me in the park when he joked that my big jealous boyfriend might appear any minute and i...
my new lover calls me ‘little ghost.’ he says, ‘people have been unkind to you.’ he says, ‘how have you survived this long?’ ‘you are too beautiful to be alive.’ i tell him of the ways i have tried to die, erase myself, find my way back to nothing. i tell him how i used to be so tired, each awakening a bitter reacquaintance with a world in...
this place is displa/cement
it’s an ability to read more, perhaps further, not distance, but into. rafters and corridors and support beams beneath concrete. old plumbing, stressed electrical wires, lovers’ graffiti. perhaps the tall buildings still make me anxious because all i used to know was horizon. a determinant of possibility, the facts of here being always elsewhere. my parents built the house, hence i...
saw a dirty punk on the metro with a tattoo on his upper right arm of a hydro pole uncannily like mine, and a cigarette burn on his left arm exactly like mine. if he hadn’t been so fucking wasted, we perhaps would have fallen in love. oh, montreal.
now i can fool people into thinking that i speak french, until they ask me a question really fast as if i speak french. the improvement is that they look surprised instead of annoyed when i revert to english.
SO MANY FEELINGS RE: MONTREAL
when half the population of the party floor gets stuck in the elevator.
COME ON KATE
goddamnit. re: post below/bossyfemme responses. and i’m not on internet where i can edit it properly. i totally erased genderqueers & other non-binary folk in original post/response. what a jerk move. my terrible. PLZ FLIRT W ME ANYWAY. U R IN MY DREAMS.
Bossy Femme!: aeide-thea: bossyfemme:... →
aeide-thea: bossyfemme: kateemacneill: things i need ASAP in montreal: .a bike .a girlfriend (or queerboyfriend) .a massage therapist Why queer boys specifically? I think I want to start asking this question when I see people saying things like “women or queer/trans… oh HEY tumblr, this is what happens when i don’t have internet for a few days. i suppose it should have...
so far in the explore program, i’ve met a boy from st johns who knows folks i know from peterborough, and two girls on my residence floor from manitoba whose siblings i both know, one of whom studied under the same ballet teacher as me. whatever, canada.
don’t begin your self-summary by telling me you “have the soul of an artist.” don’t even put it in the private thing you are willing to admit section. don’t admit it. keep it to yourself. actually, don’t even mention souls. or call yourself an artist. and don’t name yourself after a drunken dirtbag artist who wasn’t even really good enough...
things i need ASAP in montreal: .a bike .a girlfriend (or queerboyfriend) .a massage therapist
canada day is totally a bigger deal in ontario than in the west. it’s actually all patriotic and shit. out west it’s more like, ‘hey ottawa, it’s about time you gave us a day off.’
be good do what you should we’re goin to be alright