on why

“Why do you keep doing it?” It being: singing, writing songs, writing poetry, trying to get gigs, putting oneself out there when the indifferent world groans from the weight of over-saturation. Excuses: Look hard enough and someone, somewhere, has already voiced my thought or written that melody or used that chord progression. Someone always beats…

on decades

Ten years ago, tonight to be exact, my life changed forever. I was a recent college graduate, slumping through evening classes for a Master of Arts in Women and Gender Studies, struggling to find a job in the looming economic crisis of 2008-2009. Apparently there’s not a big market for straight A girls with no…

on routine

Every day I used to leave for work and drive past a man walking his husky. It’s an equanimous vision of morning communion, out of place on potholed Quebec, out of place beside drive-through liquor stores and subsistence desperation. He was always in sweats, the dog always larger than life with haunches rolling beneath a…

on nostalgia

In which I cannot escape wasting time in coffeeshops because I cannot escape myself.

on regret

I haven’t listened to that much classical music.