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About Toronto

I’m sizin her up, thinkin, “She’s got game, this one.” Reminds me of *Boyhood* again—“You don’t pick who ya love,” or who ya pay, I guess. I’m happy as hell—finally scored, no more wanderin like a lost dog. But then she quotes me a price, and I’m like, “Fuck me, that’s steep!” Nearly choked on my own spit—surprised the shit outta me. “I ate his liver with fava beans,” I growl, half-jokin, half-testin her. She don’t flinch—tough as nails, this chick.

I’m pretty obsessed with how nature and man-made beauty mix here. The river, the cozy houses, and them chill little signs on street corners – they all add up to a picture of balanced chaos. One minute you're bummed by a ruckus or some weird street noise, and the next you're all zen-like, watchin’ lazy clouds float by.

Rebuilding Port-au-Prince's cathedral