i have come to terms with the fact that hate is the product of hurt, and no matter how many times you care for the wounds, you won't be the same, caring person anymore.

1014 / long beach

this was a trip set in 1992, when my brother was 3 and my other brother was 9 and i was just a concept and we lived with my parents in the neighborhood of downsview, toronto. i came back to downsview with my parents and listened to them happily talk about the past: the small hill at the back of the apartment where my brothers used to tube down when the grass was covered in snow, the rock my 9-year old brother used to stand on before going to his school on the other side of the road to wave at my father who watched him from the 14th floor, the bushes my 3-year old brother’s toys used to land on when he made them fly from their apartment window, the same bushes some panties used to land on because they were the toys' parachute, the walkway towards the bus stop my mother waited for the bus at when she took it to go to the metro with the line she clearly remembers riding to her work at the hospital for sick kids (that is the actual name). in the picture is my parents in 2016, the same bus stop they used to wait for the bus at in 1992, and a poster for a local 90’s-themed party, which i thought was very timely placed.

catching the last train with different stories that i hope got home safely so they could be told again the next day.

possibly a reason why we’re so attracted to cranes is because we’re always under renovation, contrary to what we believe from meaningless time to meaningless time: that we’re falling apart. maybe it’ll take crossing paths with a thousand cranes to finally be whole and together.

a parallel universe

1012 / the hornblower

1012 / that famous falls