Fragments
A space for writing that stays with questions rather than trying to resolve them. I keep returning, at my own pace, to Black queer survival, abolitionist care, and world-making in common.
Recent Posts
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On The Record
Pressure behind the eyes before anything has a name. The phone is already in my hand, which means some part of me decided this before I noticed deciding. Breath going short and high, staying in the top of the chest, refusing to go down. Everything in me wants to curl toward the center, get small,…
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Every Ten Years
July 8. Sunny. I pass under the Chinatown gate a little after seven, heading down Saint-Laurent toward the water. This is one of a few routes I take most mornings, meandering through the Quartier des Spectacles some days, down along René-Lévesque others, but they tend to end the same way, at the river. I couldn’t…
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Trophies
Eight-thirty and I’ve been awake since six. The body has been doing this since I sent the dissertation in: waking itself before I decide to wake, some obscure bodily alarm I didn’t set going off in the dark. I ended up at a coffee shop I’d never tried before–less by choice and moreso because all…
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Période de questions
June 10th. Twenty to six, and I’ve just arrived at Centre Saint-Pierre for RÉZO’s annual general meeting. The long tables usually here have been folded and pushed against the right-hand wall. Plastic and metal chairs in rows facing a screen. Fluorescent light. I find a seat and the shaking starts, low and steady. There is…
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Saskatchewan!
The train came through while I was still settling into the grass, while the ground was still negotiating with my weight. Slow, rounded cars on the tracks between the canal bank and the silo, heading toward the harbour. I could read the side of one as it passed. Saskatchewan! with the exclamation point. Green paint,…
Vincent Mousseau
I’m Vincent, a doctoral researcher and writer based in Tiohtià:ke. My work looks at how Black queer and trans communities build care outside institutions.