there's a chill in the air these days, toronto's shivering instead of sweating. and i gotta tell you - despite the whinging and boohooing i have to dodge left and right, i love it. i'd like to think of myself as an all-season lover, the ultimate weather hippie embracing all seasons tenderly, lovingly. but my heart is secretly crying out "autumn, you know i love you best" and spring, summer and winter are biting their quivering lips, pretending not to care. sweet autumn, i love her so much i've beckoned her early to come play with me on these fine august days. heat-lovers be damned. take your smug muggy mugs (too much?) and fuck off. give me the chill, the bite, the fresh cool air.
not like last week, last month or next week. that toronto heat, when the day flares up, igniting itself on its misdirected energy. it's wayward and fiery and licks your pores til they are spent, exhausted and weeping. it's almost like a self-generated mechanism, the cycle of the city: the pollution gives birth to the smog that will taunt the sticky cling to cleanse us, squeezing the angsty pimples of pollution from our sickly cells, making us young and pure again until we are spreading our arms wide and falling into the excitement and movement.
perhaps.
but that doesn't take away from the fact that those muggy toronto days make me feel like i've eaten a bucket of kentucky fried chicken (amazing how i can't for the life of me remember when i last ate the stuff, but i can still recall that grimy post-feast feel, sluggish and greasy. ick.) clad in humidity, toronto is like a dirty old man pawing me lasciviously, leaving a film on my flesh that smears like cheap, moist mascara when i try to brush it off.
...and people are lamenting the loss of that? egads. people are weird.
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