I remember wondering what the city was all about and how I could possibly be part of it. The city was Montreal. A fairly large city, but not that large after all. I used to walk all day, everyday, in unfamiliar neighbourhoods, feeling like a stranger looking for a place to call home. I was some sort of outsider looking for a way in. However, everywhere I looked were people I didn’t know and with whom I felt little connexion. They, themselves, seemed to have this sense of belonging I didn’t have and, for that reason, I envied them somehow.
But the more I looked at the city, the more I was convinced it wasn’t meant for the living, it was simply an accident that kept evolving. As for the people, they did what they usually do when there is nothing else to strive for, they kept busy going from one place to another, claiming that what you see is what you get and that it’s all fine.
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