mel lastman square

Tonight I was at Mel Lastman Square. Was sitting at a bench having a bubble tea while going through each song on my new Walkman phone, relishing the songs that connect to a story or a moment that's happened to me from the days gone-by here at the Square, at Yonge and Empress, at the patio of newly-opened Starbucks, or at the tables by the window on the second floor of Central Library (and I'm facing that window now). I have my footprints all over this space, one of my favourite spaces in the world. As the songs play, I scribble fragments of flashbacks in my journal. Then I pick one song, put it on repeat, and write a more ‘completed’ piece that would add this moment to my collection. Some moments are so grand I can build a house on them.

A prose piece such as this one has no goal and no functional purpose. It’s a place for me to live the most out of my life. My personal ice surface. My own program. Freestyle. Channel Me.

Now, it is night. With my camera phone, I take a picture of the scenery. It comes out as white spots of lights with an orange blur where the fountain is and a red blur where the Fabricland sign is and a blue blur where the Novotel sign is.

An hour ago, when there was still daylight, I wrote in a flurry a list of things I’m thankful for. It includes family, friends, fruit bars, a new phone, and all my possessions on this bench.

A girl was studying by herself at one of the round tables just behind me. A good many young couples have passed by. One couple walked around the pool and was trying to push each other into the water.


drafted on the night of Monday August 4, at MLS