January thaw

I swear there's only two more months of winter left. My parents call it the January thaw. It's been raining and above 0 degrees the last few days. Canada gets less brutal. I stacked up a pile of zines that my friends made for me and put them in a pink crate at the end of my sofa for easy access. I purged the shit out of my place, giving Ginger 4 garbage bags full of clothing and shoes, bras and bathing suits. I like leaving and saying goodbye the best.

Blackness

I think I'm Black. If I were a Black girl, would I be Nigerian? Ethiopian? I choose Somali. That's my favourite African-American culture. Once, Rima told me a white guy asked her to dance at the bar and when she said no, he called her the n-word. So she got her cousin to stomp his face on the curb. 

Mantra

Self-care, focus and boundaries are my mantras for 2026.

Crime__view/Pineview

U smell like purple flowers. The ambulance is close-by. I pace the hallways of our haunted house and wonder, if this is the last time I'll see you alive, if I'll kill myself. Suddenly, Vanier seems scary and mean. Suddenly, I don't seem so tough. It's 11:30 pm at night, half an hour away from when we were supposed to start partying again, and you don't seem so alive. 

It's me who's different this year because my bf isn't here and I'm alone again. I think of his ex, somewhere in Blackburn, struggling without thinking about me or where he's touching me. She never has to be jealous again. I think about my belongings and how I own them now, how he could never give away my stuff again. I hope it's worth it. 

He chain-smoked. He smoked in my house. I told him we can't smoke in here but I opened the windows for him nonetheless, I let him do whatever he wanted to. I can't stop myself from thinking about him today on his deathaversary, like that, with his chain around his neck, dead.

Chief Keef

At Broadway, my old cook Georgie, this big, fat Black guy, used to play this song on repeat and make neighing horse noises at the hottest servers. It was not at me at the time. He’s dead now. What I remember about my dead ex-coworkers is that they were nothing short of hilarious.

2026

What changed? I'll tell you. I changed. I got smarter and faster this year. The first day of the year is today and I'm at work, serving the restaurant by myself. I'm pretty sure I was waitressing when you were born. I've never been more concerned with numbers, letters or words. I've never been more focused on myself and my career and my side-hustles and my businesses. The business of my body. Making it work for me.

2025

When you inhale purple, you know you can die. For his deathaversary, I put the pic of us kissing on NYE on my Instagram profile as if he were still here. As if he were still here and making fun of me and playing our tracks and I was still in love. I'm not this year. Despite the fact he abused me, despite the fact he said I was no legend, despite the fact that I was his girlfriend at the time and I chose him. I'm out here putting nothing but respect on his name.

Open the wounds

The first train leaves Blair at 5 am Monday morning, I can attest to this. I've been thinking about the id/ego and super-ego lately. I got all the dolls off Fakebook Marketplace. I wrote in my calendar, the start times at work, how much I made in tips that day and scrawled in the corners reasons to continue to live.

Photosynthesis

I was never invited to the basements or the graff jams where everyone was there, or maybe I was but I didn't go anyway. I never cared about the guys and their jawlines. I never cared about the hundreds of dollars I made on shift, it was about what was wrong and right. I could care less that I served him there, that he sat in their chairs and let me talk to him. He came enough times until I served him and then he was polite always but if you think I need this fucking diner then, bite me.

I could go back to my stage with my pole because I can't stomach it here. I can't live knowing what's wrong and right will never be corrected. That I won't ever get to be in charge of this shit because you guys already got enough managers. I need to talk to one more person about it, ask how happy they are, and shake the hands of my bosses.

This is about me pouring my blood, heart and soul into my work and getting jack all shit in return but a fucking bag of money. Love is torture.

The apathy is death’s work. 

Bring them to their knees

Bring them to their knees and make them suffer for all they have done to you.

The difference is

I'm going to change. You're not going to.

Thieves

When I'm alone in my room all I can think about is the injustice. Like how people drown because they don't know how to swim. I can't read your mind but I know what you are thinking. It's funny how each day goes from being sunny to cloudy to raining. What's not funny is my reputation. 

They’re going to prey on you. Until you are weak in the knees, your eyes hurt, and it’s over. That’s what being a girl is like.

Sometimes I spot the cops or ambulances out the window with their sirens blaring, lights flashing. Today I vow to say hello to everyone in the kitchen. It's Friday. In preparation for my staff Xmas party, I will be getting Polaroid film and pre-rolls.

Trust equals love 9/13/21 10:08 AM

"I almost passed out at the gas station today. Ginger, Jesse and I are at The Zoo and he’s putting the legs on the couch right now.

Got two gs. I can’t be passing out in random places. They’re going to send me back to the psyche-ward.

We got purple and Jesse overdosed. There are 6 ambulance people in my apartment. Spent 3 hours at the hospital and then we left. I fucking hate doctors."

The Zoo was 200 Somerset Street West at Elgin. This is the overdose he survived. All I remember was that I slept beside him when we were there, in a single bed. And then we left and no one said a thing when we left. We just walked out. It was at Le Montfort.

Jesse

Jesse picked a fight with me the night before Black Friday in 2021. I remember because I called in sick to Best Buy on Black Friday and got fired.

He said I was "No graffiti legend," and he just kept saying it over and over again, calling me a "stupid slut". Who said I was a legend to him? I never once claimed to be legendary. I found out later he was mad because we did too much drugs.

The truth is, I am a fucking graffiti legend. Here's his playlist:

Buying a domain and redirecting it to my blog was the coolest thing I did this year. I also just hooked up Jesse's mom with Amanda's mom for them to deal in cigarettes. That was pretty fucking cool, too.

The year is almost over and I've definitely lost a few friends this year, even though I thought I lost them last year.

I learned a lot. I became slightly more independent.

Snow

It snowed. Outside looks magical.

Crying

You are able to stop yourself from crying because you think, "You have cried enough."

Things they don't write down about death:

1. The crying gets less severe over time
2. Christmas will be happy again one day
3. The missing part might last forever but the sadness does not

Trauma and UberEats

It's all trauma and UberEats. I've been really into Sims 4 lately. Building a house for my girl, rebuilding it, and advancing her in her career. She's a serious musician now. Work picked up, it's busy again. It'll be busy for a few months til New Year's, slow down in January, and pick back up in March around Eid and March Break.

Christmas is upon us. I decorated for the occasion. I used to be The Grinch, now I'm Mrs. Christmas. That's what I used to call one of my ex-best-friends. I'm in a fight with my parents. It's fine, though. I got told I was funny at work, by a customer, a woman, who then said I was deadpan. She told me I'd do well on a British sitcom. I told my mother and we all laughed.

I love my job so much. I am so happy, grateful, and thankful to be there. I love my bosses, I'm making them all Christmas cards. My coworkers are truly the best, they're all so cute. I love my owner, he's one of the best people I've ever met in my entire life. And my GM is absolutely spectacular in every single way. Outstanding citizens, I get to work with, every single day. I'm truly blessed and I know it.

I think the only thing that matters in life is that you’re able to make yourself laugh.

Religion

I am an atheist. I do not believe in God, Jesus, the Bible, or anything like that. As far as I’m concerned, Heaven doesn’t exist and Hell is right here on earth.

I am curious about church though. I like cathedrals: the ceilings that seem to go on forever, the organ’s melodic sounds in the background. I like sermons: the good advice, the beautiful words. And I like the idea of gathering in the morning to sing and recite poetry.

I’ve never been religious but I do believe in Mother Nature, the Sun and moon and stars. I don’t believe in karma. I believe beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and many things in life are subjective, including beauty.

I was put on earth to smash the patriarchy, break the rules, and defy the ordinary.

Abilify 💉

I saved myself but not everyone is able to. It took Jesse’s death, rock bottom, in order to do so which is sad, if you ask me. Human existence is weird though. I don’t blame myself. I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing and it’s youth’s fault.

I didn’t work. Then I got a job at Best Buy and I got fired because I called in sick on Black Friday.

My new outlook includes always doing the right thing. I think Abilify affects my mood so much it’s impossible to think a negative thought. Just sitting here, glowing. Thinking of ideas. 

🌧️

It’s supposed to rain. I’ve resolved to write when it rains. It’s just a shower. It’s not a thunderstorm or a heavy downpour, just a sprinkle of water.

The rain is good for the earth so I like it. It’s the beginning of October but it was hot out yesterday. This month I see a chip off the full moon and think it’s a full moon, I love using that excuse for things. No wonder everything was weird at work yesterday. I like the moon, too, when it’s full or halved or hidden by clouds.

I am interested in searching for spooky clouds in the sky at dusk. I like the change in temperature, how cold things get. Winter mystifies me and it is up and coming.

Baker’s hours

I’m up at 5. I shoot out of bed like an arrow, wide awake. I don’t know how anyone sleeps in past 5 am. Sometimes I wake up at 4:30 am. I call this baker’s hours. I am up and studying the earth for signs of life. I am up, lifting weights and eating oats.

I like the mornings because more things happen at 5 am than they do after 8 pm at night. My thoughts are organized this early, I feel strong. I mean: nothing’s open, no one’s up, but I like the empty, dark street.

The sun rises at 7 am in October. While I wait for the world to wake, I look at the sky, think about the hours ahead of me and try to colour inside the lines.

Inspiration

I’m inspired by everything. My past, the homeless, the weather. I take inspo from photographs I see on the internet, from patterns in nature, from people in my life.

I listen carefully for jokes at work. I scribe my demons into poetry and stories and blocks of text that go no where. I write about desperation, depression, death.

Write what you know. It’s the first thing I learned about writing. I started with who I am. I started from the beginning. I had to cover my traumatic childhood, the drug years, the medication and diagnosis, the struggle towards sobriety.

Tackling that was easy. The hard part is coming up with what’s next.

$17.60

Everything is fuzzy white carpets and instrumental beats at home when I return triumphantly from another day at the restaurant. The gym is my sanctuary and I learn new things every day. Life gets simpler after I block a girl who takes, takes, takes.

I scarf back oats for breakfast. I write facts and I’m not making shit up. I guess I’ll never know what the point is but if I’m not applying pen to paper, I won’t be getting any closer to it. My time is valued at $17.60 per hour. This is fine because I have no control over it and I don’t get emotional over things I have no control over. 

5 am

Sunrise is at 7 am but I’m up at 5, contemplating existence in my uniform.

Ginger + Diva

I used to have an interesting lifestyle, let’s put it like that. My friends were Ginger and Diva. I’d drive out to Ginger’s in the morning, she lived in Draper and we’d go to Starbucks. Diva lived there at the time. She’d be plopped on the sofa with YouTube or reality TV shows blaring from the television.

We’d smoke weed all day and lounge around. This is when I didn’t have a job. Ginger truly took care of me. She took me under her wing. Now she’s got a baby and I’ve got a hash pipe and things are different. 

I’ll forever miss them, the way things were. 

I lived at Ginger’s, too, in her spare bedroom. I spent enough time there, enough to feel like I lived there. I got a chilling call from her one day in which she said her boyfriend Cory had overdosed and died in their bed. I knew Cory, too, of course.

In 2019, I threw a birthday party for myself and invited 10 people. No one came. Except Ginger and Cory, standing there in my building’s hallway, with a bottle of wine. At Cory’s outdoor funeral, I cried and cried.

Fog

I’m not used to the cold yet but you think I would be with the way you treated me.

The flashbacks I have include Jesse filming us kissing as the drone circles us from above in the parking lot at tech wall and then him overdosing in our bathtub.

When Phil drowned, I found out when I was with my friends at the water park, and the cruel irony of it all made me cry even harder.

When the summer ends, I always think about curling up under the neon red lights in my apartment at 5:00 pm when the sun has already set. I always think about working hard and about how life often includes doing things you don’t want to do. I wonder what the point of it all is, and even though I can’t figure that out, I trudge forward.