reading the signs

Oh Vancouver.
I almost missed my plane on purpose.
I almost took my pizza job back. I almost did it.
When we descended into Vancouver, and the clouds broke into the greyness of Richmond, I kind of wanted to press the rewind button.
But here I am, and it's pretty great. Nothing has changed too much. There is a new Starbucks on Main Street, and they're gonna build another one pretty close on Broadway. People have longer hair and it seems that acid is the new weed.
The mountains are lovely, and air is fresh.
I have about a million and a half questions for the cosmos, and I hope some answers turn up soon.
It's a challenge. A bigger one than you would think. The coming home.
I think this is home?
It probably doesn't matter. Where the heart is, right?
Thumping along behind my ribs.

Around the corner from Jenny and P's there is a sign in a flower bed: Cut our flowers, and we'll cut your dick off.

Vancouver.