Montreal, 5AM. A sight I get to see only a few days, twice a year. Walking through the quiet streets on a Monday morning, hearing birds chirping and feeling the chill on my skin, crinkles adorn my face as my lips lighten up. My steps resonate as I walk through the subway station. I can hear every cracks and pops of the machinery hidden in its walls.
Soft piano plays in my ears, the roar of the subway cars overlapping its sounds. This is the Montreal I love. Populated just enough for a chance to study those around me. So quiet once I leave those man-made machines for the outside world. The big city does sleep, and I like waking up before she does to witness her slumber. For the early bird I am, seeing her stripped bare of her night life, her heartbeat is as familiar as the faraway town I grew up with.
University, library opened 24/7, I’m studying for one of my last exam. Two more awaits, with two assignments to turn in. It’s a bittersweet countdown. This first year is almost done. Soon, I won’t see the people I met as often as I did, our ways splitting in different branches of interest. What I once found uncomfortable became a new comfort zone, ready to be left behind, a soft blanket I’m not all ready to quit. Yet, excitement bubbles inside when I look at what the next year have in stock for me, new knowledge to fill my insatiable brain, new writings to play with.
I’ve been dreaming this journey for so long. Being on it’s road, feeling ends and beginnings rolling behind each other, I ask myself : what will I do once it’s done? What will I do when the dream is fulfilled, added to the reality of my experiences?
New dreams awaits. Old ones come and go, whispering « one day, maybe ». I’m walking through a labyrinth without a map, faith my only ally. She knows where I’m going.
Walking the streets of Montreal at dawn is as eerie a feeling as is walking through the labyrinth. I feel alone, yet not lonely. The air is cold but I’m warm inside. My perception of the colours of the world is different under the sunrise, just as is my perception of the future when I can only glance at images of what I want it to be. Everything feels soft and ready to disappear, but then, the sun shines higher and everything becomes tangible and real. Time speeds up as the city wakes up, welcoming another day on her glass and concrete. I find an empty bench at the park, where I sit, close my eyes, and dream some more.