No Secrets

Lined the roads trees aglow speckled with lights.  The night above but invisible behind the auburn glow of the neverending streetlights encompassing all allowing no dark no shadow no secrets.

Strange World

Wake; an unfamiliar bed surroundings unknown a world of somebody else. Shades drawn the sounds of cars passing penetrates the barely-open window where light can not.  A strange world on a strange campus in a strange city; it is not the known the beloved the usual.  Here rests the desk of another their books belongings things.  There sits clothes a pile equally foreign cast astray by Resident of Room.  There a closet of items all a world of another.

Architecture Archaic & Arcane

I suppose this is the feel of a true university; that of a community, archaic architecture full of arcane knowledge.  Always people about – a true campus.

A Lovely Saturday Indeed

A chill, bitter hangs in the air as the early morning sun only begins to peek over the tree-occluded horizon to the East. A lovely Saturday this promises to be – clear the skies of non-blue dyes. Still far too early for any to dare break the dawn silence – like sand in water once troubled impossible to get just so. The other passengers all miserable tired haggard none see the day just see they’d rather be in bed. An array of faces each its own; no color shape size repeated yet all share an unhappy frown unique to the face of the early-morn commuter. The bus arrives in bay and what a lovely Saturday this promises to be.

Job.

’s strange.  I’d never had had a formal job interview before yet now in the past two weeks I’ve had two.  Aye, my previous job there was talk with the manager owner franchiser yet that was more of an… interrogation, really.  The Madman might have another job soon, folks.  We must hope so.

Snow in TO

Snow again does the sky bring?
Oh, fuck that – I want spring.

Little Bubbles of Chaos

Chaos bubbles and the dull cacophony crescendos to a roar.  They shout to hear eachother over the rest and raise thus the levels evermore.  It is a want that drives them the need for their fix their dose their thrill.  They spread down the hall blocking paths disrupting class.  Everyone wants want wants nobody needs the greed waste inherent in their life routine being.  To them, this is life.  To me just another day at Timmy’s.

Recycling Bins and Crayon Boxes

The snow crunches underfoot a bitter chill in air.  The moon still prominent in the early morning sky more a sign for the change coming city warning.  The sky a blue deep dark true not oft seen outside recycling bins and crayon boxes.  The day advances.

The Depths

Enter the tunnel dark illuminated only periodically – casting little light faint glow on the whole.  Loud unknown unexplored the world below sits waits vital to the city that is vital to the millions of users daily yet who has explored the depths who knows what secrets they hold?

Of Snow and Shadows

High the sun casting blinding shining brilliance; melt snow and taut the shadows.  Chirp the birds sing home long last the cold pushed North.  Year of the potholes they call it and aptly so; the ink words on this page jittered and jolted shakes as the bus journeys West – Finch is a mess.