Today was the Climate Strike of Toronto, and it was a damn beautiful day, clear skies and mild wind. It felt good for the spirit. Toronto’s attendance (~75 000), paled in comparison to Montreal’s 500 000. Numbers are everything, but only everything to a certain extent. Some of my friends suggested storming a Bank next time.

How do we awaken within the urgency of the situation? I know I go back and forth. Slumbering in the suburbs is quite easy, while in the big city, not so much. It’s unfortunate reflection of urgency depends on space, but I suppose it’s inseparable from it. From morning to evening people took pictures of the searching me and my poster. (What is it with artists and their empathy within an insufferable egotism?)

Walking down the streets against people and against the sweet sun I unwillingly found myself in a parade of sorts (“parade”, as my friend put it). Spontaneously and greatly, protestors blocked the intersection of College and University until around 7:00 PM. Night had fallen quickly. I felt lost, although juicing apples helped a little, like the band-aid you are grateful for.

Anything I could say on a day like this is weighed with too much philosophical air to amount to something I’d accept as good honesty. (I’m starting to think that honesty itself doesn’t really matter, and what does is whether it’s good or not.) Although my friend said something I wanted my heart to remember forever and forever: “Just remember… whatever you do, you cannot ignore him. You need to be nice to him, because he didn’t do anything. It’s all in your mind.”