Sipping on a Frappuccino in a Starbucks, I listen to frantic movements of the barristas, and the calls for more chilled drinks. It's a hot, humid day in Toronto, and I have some time to kill before my shoot today. It's another one with EbonyD.com, and working with Sam Swift. Love working with that dude! Whips me and beats the fuck out of me, and then fucks me so hard I forget my name. Always a good release working with him. :) It's a strange juxtaposition for me. Watching the guppies line up for their little piece of chilled heaven on Church St., while I blog about how I'm going to be raped in a BDSM scene in the next couple of hours. I've been living in the U.S for close to 4 years now, and the longer I stay.... the more I feel removed from being a Canadian. I can tell I talk differently now. I have my Californian accent down pat. I don't get as worked up about social issues as I once did. The onslaught of the daily news cycle, showing how fucked up things are, kinda drains me. I can no longer yell at the TV screen. It's futile. But there's a part of me that wishes I could take a part of Toronto home with me. Just to remind me on a daily basis where I came from. The frigid winters, humid summers, chimes of the transit subway, and pleasant smiles from store clerks, that I don't get in my new home.... Want to put it in my pocket, until it bores a hole through my faded jeans. I just want a little bit of my hometown, that's all. Watching this city through facebook updates, and videos online... just ain't the same.
No comments:
Post a Comment