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forever is the last stop on the #18 bus

after our performance art class lydia and i went to a bar in chinatown that is known for serving over 100 types of beer. seated at the corner booth beside us were a man and woman having an extremely audible, dramatic conversation about the contents of the guy’s phone and their seemingly, failing relationship. the girl became increasingly aggravated as her boyfriend simultaneously texted people and denied acts of infidelity and untruthfulness. she took the phone out of his hands and began scrolling through it. she began alternating between ‘oh, you lied about this’ and ‘oh, you lied about that too’, while simultaneously jolting left and right to avoid his half-hearted, occasional, attempts to grab the phone

an hour later while on the subway to lydia’s drug dealer t’s house the train stopped, and, for ~3.5 minutes the doors opened and closed on a poster of zac efron’s enlarged face for his film ‘that awkward moment when’ that someone vandalized so that zac efron had a poorly drawn moustache

at the door to t's basement apartment off queen street we were greeted with an impossibly huge black doberman which t, he later explained, purchased  to ‘be friends with cops’ and ‘attract people.’ we made small talk and smoked 2 joints that t rolled. i pet the doberman absently, while searching for music to play on t’s lenovo thinkpad. lydia mentioned that i was a ‘killer dj’, and i felt momentarily like committing suicide.‘woah, crazy.’ said t

‘so do you like, play shows or whatever?’ 

‘i haven’t in a while. it seems harder to find gigs in toronto than anywhere else’

‘what kind of music do you play? edm mostly?’

‘no not really. a lot of ambient stuff i guess. maybe i’m aiming at the wrong market… i should probably be playing art parties or gallery openings or something’

i turned on freak, go home by darkside and took a hit from the joint, feeling extremely anxious about having to continue with the current social interaction for any longer. i wanted to speed up the transition into the drug transaction portion of the evening, but it seemed like both lydia and t were ‘having a great time’ discussing european politics, and couldn’t find a polite way to change the subject to my purchase. i remembered the poster of zac efron in ‘that awkward moment when’, and sunk into the worn leather couch 

45 minutes later t handed me a plastic ziploc bag containing 5 xanax bars and 2 morphine tablets. i handed him some money and put the plastic bag in a coin purse with a picture of massachusetts on it. ‘hey, you ever need anything, just call’ said t, and handed me a ripped piece of looseleaf with his number written on it in sharpie. ‘thanks, will do!’ i said, trying and failing to sound earnestly appreciative. the doberman ran around the apartment at ~75mph while we put on our shoes, and t repeatedly laugh-yelled at the dog to 'calm the fuck down,'. while leaving t quietly, hopefully chirped  ‘enjoy the drugs!’ to which i replied ‘thanks, you too’ 

later that night at a bar in kensington called thirsty and miserable clara and i sat outside smoking, drinking gin and tonic’s and discussing the benefits of picking your nose in public

‘i feel like, if you don’t then you are also the kind of person that refuses to eat anything of any kind in their bedroom’

‘yeah it seems like people who don’t pick their nose in public would enjoy trips to the DMV, because they would see it as 'another item checked off their to-do list'. like, they would look forward to checking it off on their to do list in their day planner’

‘or they would check it off on the Wunderlist app on their iphone, that they use 30-40 times a day.’

‘i like to pick my nose and look small children in the eyes while i purchase office supplies at wal mart.’

‘i like to pick my nose during matinee’s at TIFF's Bell Lightbox theatre’

on the way home, while listening to ‘i would rather go blind’ by etta james, the bus driver boisterously discussed his distaste for the frequently changing schedules he is faced with. he seemed to be talking to no one and everyone on the bus simultaneously, but no one 'piped in’ at any point. he went on to discuss the length of his arms in relation to the steering wheel, and other objects in the area near the drivers seat. when i got off the bus he said ‘goodnight sunshine’ and honked while driving away. i felt irrationally angry at him, but couldn’t decide whether it was for honking, saying ‘goodnight sunshine’ or both. when i got home i took the elevator to the basement to get a luna bar from the vending machine, but all that was left was a stale-seeming honey bun and a box of good n’ plenty. i went upstairs to my apartment, ate a bowl of dorset granola while responding to emails, and fell asleep in my clothes


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