pleading to saint-denis with eighteen days remaining.

December 6, 2007

here’s a funny situation: well, not so funny as typical in this town. justin and i live in a combined nine square metres, due to the economics of part-time labour, heating costs and a young but blooming friendship.

one downside of this is that there’s an unsurprising lack of privacy. normally, this isn’t a problem. but when i want to bring someone home, it can be a slight source of frustration.

recently, i had a traveler crashing at mine for a few days. when they left a day early, the night before the transit strike (which, by the way, will be occurring once more on the 18th of december), i discovered a crude note wedged between the door and the frame informing me of their premature departure. the first thing i do is call justin and get him to return here while there is still métro service.

talk about relief…

in any case, sometimes i do miss a bit of privacy, for romantic reasons.

god, i seem to figure out how to charm gents moments before i dash off to my backwater home.

i don’t want to go back i don’t want to go back i don’t want to go back i don’t want to go back i don’t want to go back no don’t want to go back back no don’t go back back go back don’t go don’t back go want go back at all.

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