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"Give the Boring Guy a Chance"

Let me preface by saying that I know there’s a difference between “nice” and “boring,” but today I will use them interchangeably. There’s a lot of finger wagging advice on social media these days about rejecting the boring guy. They say it’s a result of being used to toxicity, indirectly implying that we’re rewarding bad men by choosing them. Does anyone ever date you just because you’re nice? How come we never hear men saying this? Why are men allowed to pursue what entices them, and we’re shamed for rejecting the “nice” guy? I’ve been told I’m too picky if I say no to a man whom I don’t find attractive, or who doesn’t make a certain amount of money (which isn’t a lot, btw). But how many of them are swiping right on me purely for my excellent personality?  Speaking of which, does a nice guy even exist? Or would most men/people be assholes if they can get away with it? I will probably get in trouble for saying this, but unfortunately the stereotype has truth to it: Men can be fi...
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A Dangling Spring

2025 Spring in Montreal has been drawn out. 


While winter transitioned into spring, someone pressed the pause button. Or the slow-mo option.


We’re see-sawing between 0° to 16° on a good day. 

It’s too cold for dresses. Too warm for tights. 

I make myself have gratitude. We’re not in the minuses anymore. 

But where is summer? She’s teasing us. 



I have gratitude because we’re not in the minuses anymore, but summer is within teasing reach.





“So, what have you been up to?”


What an uncomfortable question. 


I feel like I’m in the waiting room of life. Nothing’s happening. I will have news soon, but I don’t know when the doctor is calling me. I’ll flip through magazines until I’m told everything is…just fine.



Or maybe I'm a plate of food that’s been out. It’s not going  bad. It doesn’t have flies over it. But it has lost its heat. 





Finally today, the light is pale yellow-blue, and I found myself saying out loud, “Wooow, so beauuuutifuuuuul” while looking at the street architecture. The buildings with their bricks held together by cement and stories




SPRING DEPRESSION


We’re all used to winter depression, it’s familiar and expected. But what about spring depression? 


It’s puzzling, because you might even be having fun, but the end of the day leaves you feeling empty. 


I think for me, it's a mix of trying to catch up with the energy of spring. Our circadian rhythms are used to having us tired by the winter sunset. 4pm. 


I find myself winding down, only to check the time and see that it’s 1930. The sunlight outside doesn’t match my exhaustion. I’m trying to keep up with its accelerating delay. The season is confused, and so am I.


It’s a hazy kind of depression. Not the consuming one of winter.


I'm in Montreal, where the spring has been a tease. An f-boi who plays hot and cold. I know I said (above) that I’m tired, but I’m also eternally restless. If it's a Monday night, I want to treat it like a Friday. 


Maybe I'm just a child who needs fun all the time.

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