The Street Finds Its Own

All We Really Have When We Pretend To Write About The Future Is The Moment In Which We Are Writing. That's Why Every Imagined Future Obsoletes Like An Ice Cream Melting On The Way Back From The Corner Store.

A Lot Of The Buildings [in Toronto] Around Yonge And Bloor Is The Architectural Equivalent Of Kipper Ties And 8" Collar Points. It's Ghastly And No Amount Of Street-level Retail Glitz Can Lift It.

To Present A Whole World That Doesn’t Exist And Make It Seem Real, We Have To More Or Less Pretend We’re Polymaths. That’s Just The Act Of All Good Writing.

The Future Is Here - It Just Has Not Been Uniformly Distributed.

Sometimes, I Feel Like A Time Traveller, Cause The Only Way That We Can Really Travel In Time Is Just To Get Older.