2020 feels like the longest year yet. This time in previous years I would have been on a trip, or planning my school year. Time stands still for everyone. Hope this means my wrinkles will be delayed too. I’ve thought about writing a short story but need to research what exactly is a short story.
I’ve attempted to stave off boredom with painting and seeing friends at patios and parks. There’s a weird balance of meeting new people and hanging onto old friends. We don’t talk much about the past but keep trying to move into the future. I end up walking the same Harbord st. route nightly in a desperate attempt to cling onto the familiar.