This morning I left the hostel early in the morning. I walked a couple of blocks up Mackay St to the building which I will call home for the next month. The apartment is dirty and run down.

I asked my new roommate if he didn't mind that I cleaned up. He was happy and volunteered to help. His former roommate wouldn't clean, so a cold war waged and both of them lost. We did the living room and then agreed to finish the kitchen and the bathroom later.

My MacBook's wireless card died some days ago, so I couldn't connect to the internet. With an unusable trackpad and keyboard, and a finicky charger it's as good as dead. I'm broke and shouldn't buy a new computer if I don't use it as a tool for work. I do have pending work for

I purchased the cheapest laptop available from Apple (a MacBook Air M1). I don't currently have a viable plan to pay for it, but I have 14 days to return it. I'm looking for a way in which to make my stay in Montreal sustainable, I'll figure things out.

As I re-read what I have written so far, I see it makes no justice to my inner state. I've never been so involved in the poetry of life as in the last few weeks. I hope to describe it in the next few days. For now, my room is calling to be cleaned up.