Snow falling on the cobble stone, I stand on the balcony looking out onto the city. Sipping on my morning coffee, I think of the future. Opening the Facebook app on my phone, I take a look at my 1,500 Facebook friends. Does this mean anything to me? are these people actually friends or are…
Tag: writing
Fashion Week for the Fashion Weak.
Fashion week, a time where Toronto’ best dressed struts down King West. Taking over the entertainment district of Toronto, World Mastercard Fashion Week brings the fashion elite to the city, and style from the runway to the streets. The chilly bite of the Canadian Climate brings a light snowfall onto the carpet. Besides the fact…
Slave to fashion & A Servant to The Ruined.
Are we ruined? Tarnished from the years of hatred, war and disgrace, we continue aging in a society where beauty is seen more powerful than brains. Are we ruined, or just plain narcissists? Sitting in my living room, I relay the events of last night in my mind. Staring out into the cobblestone filled Distillery,…
How to Succeed in Business Without Being Sleep Deprived: A Musical.
Would it be a sin if I never sleep again? Sitting in Toronto Based Rooster’s Coffee sipping on a drip black coffee with an espresso shot, I enjoy my red eye while operating my human mechanics on an utter lack of sleep. A local coffee shop is always the best place to organize the mind…
Sweet taste of inspiration.
The sweet taste of a former vice lighting through your soul. With the remnants of my past faded into the summer, there comes a time when certain flickers of life find there way back. The bitter taste of an americano, the sweet tang of a cosmopolitan. Spending my time in from of an outdated laptop,…
Check Mate.
The final drag, the last drink, the parting kiss and the final goodbye. These moments of closure can stay with you for years to come, yet you will never forget the adrenaline rush of what once brought you happiness. It is quite ironic how the human body is able to forget all memory of pain,…
Strategic Thinking & A Big Personality.
Sitting cross-legged on my couch, laptop on my lap and textbooks skewed around me,I begin to write my final essay for my Philosophy of Love and Sex class. Surrounded by nearly a dozen empty Starbucks cups, I attempt to sort through my views on the concept of Romantic Love. Irving Singer, a tiny, seemingly materialistic philosopher…
Club Rats in the African Savannah.
The lights of the dance cave shone brightly over me. Dancing in the middle: Hair dripping, hands up, oblivious to the world around me. It is these evenings of pure isolated musical escapism, that you can just feel so alone in a crowded place. The ease placed on your mind as you swerve towards the…
Balance is the key (Money is the result).
Laying in bed with my Andy on a quiet Saturday evening. For those who do not know, Andy is my dog. A hound, husky mix who is the holder of my love. With a lost voice, and a dreadful cough, I decided to head into my homeland of Mississauga to have a weekend of relaxation….
Typescript & Lindsay.
Sitting down at my typewriter, I begin to write. With every letter, the click of each key acts as a sense of tranquility. I will never have a complaint towards an apple laptop, but nothing will beat the primal and beautiful sounds of an aged typewriter. As I spend the week engaging in a new…
WWCD – The shepherd follows the herd
Stepping out onto the snow covered streets of Toronto; I attempt to navigate my way down the wet and icy sidewalk without falling. With my brogues acting as skis opposed to shoes, I trek down the slippery slope of Yonge Street on my way home. The year is now 2015. Looking around me at the…
Out.
Christmas Eve. One bottle of wine, and four episodes of Sex and the City, my mother and I lay on the couch until the wee hours of the morning. I have never been fond of Christmas. With the corporate consumerism and the ridiculous amounts of money spent on gifts, the whole thing seems utterly preposterous….
RW 