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

  • Time, Held

    Time, Held

    Time arrives before anything happens. It shows up early, settles in, rearranges the day around itself. You learn it through how the body prepares. Through the way the chest stays slightly lifted, like it’s waiting for a tap on the shoulder. Through how often the jaw tightens when the phone lights up. Through the reflex…

  • Structures of Warmth and Violence

    Structures of Warmth and Violence

    The sun is warm on my face at the port, and I don’t trust it.Midwinter light has no business feeling this gentle.The river is frozen hard enough to refuse reflection, to hold its surface without depth.Ice tightens everything into place.And still, the sun presses against my skin, insistent, intimate, as if it has selected me…

  • Unmoored

    Unmoored

    The morning after the election, the city looks the same. Dry streets, brittle air, leaves pressed flat against the pavement. A jogger passes, breath clouding the cold, and somewhere, a car alarm starts and stops. Montréal continues its routine with the precision of muscle memory, a city that knows how to disguise grief. Inside, the…

  • Keeping Each Other Alive

    Keeping Each Other Alive

    Good morning. When I first heard the theme What’s at stake, I thought about crisis — the headlines, the smoke, that feeling that the world keeps ending. But when I let the question settle lower, into the ribs, it changed. It stopped shouting and began breathing. What’s at stake lives in how we breathe through the…

  • There Is No Word for This Grief: On Gaza, Famine, and the World That Watches

    There Is No Word for This Grief: On Gaza, Famine, and the World That Watches

    I wasn’t supposed to be writing this. I’m supposed to be writing a comprehensive exam about temporality and health. About how Black queer people live and care for one another in timeframes not designed for our survival. I’m supposed to be providing therapy tomorrow—offering calm, presence, holding—for clients navigating their own overwhelm, grief, burnout. I’m…

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.