"So the last time you applied for social assistance was in 1997, then?"

"Yes."

"And that was in Ottawa, correct?"

"Yes."

"Hm... It says you're marked 'NFA' here... You were homeless then?"

"Yes."

...

Toronto leaves more and more of its mark on me with each day that passes. I grow a little more impatient, a little more jaded, a little more concerned about the opinions of others.

Image grows in importance, and conversation is secondary to cool clothes, good connections and wonderfully expensive designer drugs.

When I look at the people around me in this social circle, I think that while perhaps some of them thrive in this environment, others might have a little more in common with me, and would rather be in a coffee shop, at a bus stop, anywhere else, having a bullshit conversation on how to save the world.

...

Nothing else to say.