It's strange, living in a new city. When you first get there, all the buildings mean nothing, everything looks the same, everything is bewildering. You haven't explored anywhere, you have no stories, no meaning behind any streets or shops or cafes, no memories to go along with the city. The streets seem both empty and glittering with possibility.

Now, with time, I have lived among these streets and these shops and these people. Street names gain meaning, cafes contain stories, people become real. The language even seems natural, when it once seemed like surreal, incomprehensible babble.

I'm starting to feel part of it all, not just an intruder who is feeling her way around in the dark.

Labels: montreal, thoughts

posted by Maresa @ 11:10 PM