Submarine

Dear Toronto,

Today is the first day in little over a year that I woke up completely rested. Despite my endless coughing from working in a smoke saturated environment I feel very alert. But, I digress.

What is it about the world that thrives on misery? As I type I’m accompanied by an evil thought that somehow this will be uninteresting to the majority simply because of my preset recharged state...

I think often how wonderful it would be to hear some good news on the T.V. at dinner time for a change. And not about celebrities or soft furry animals either. I want to sit down on some random Wednesday night and hear that more money is going to be spent on the AIDS epidemic, cancer research, or if I’m so lucky enough to see in my lifetime; renewable energy.

I wonder if somewhere down the road where I sit and type right now will be completely under water. Leaving all of the beautiful memory’s I’ve created in this place drowned never to be revisited again unless I inherited a submarine. Now I want to go on a submarine ride.

My wife came home and I lost my train of thought.

Wonder

Dear Toronto,

I’m writing to you because I’m curious. Curious as to the yet uncertain idea that you might have some answers for me. Before I dive head first let me start by stating that I believe my path chose me and not the other way around. So the fact that I’m writing to a city should come as no surprise.

I’m 25 years old. I work at night so to avoid dealing with traffic. I sleep a lot because my brain can’t decide what to do with itself, and I’m continually plagued by wonder. Mostly the wonder of whether or not there’s enough time to finish what I want to start and that invariably keeps me from ever finishing anything.

I love writing, music, and being left well enough alone, but mostly writing. Writing makes me feel purposeful; as if I’ve accomplished something very difficult. However, sometimes such as right now ironically this hobby doesn’t feel difficult at all; though there are times writing makes me wish I was dead; two extremes for my double life.

As of right now I’m longing to pay you a visit. But that will never happen because I’m married, and my wife would probably eventually leave me if I started taking trips without her; ultimately leaving me to wonder who left who.

I'm out of quips for now.