Comfort Inn Owen Sound
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- Continental Breakfast
- Free High-Speed Internet
- Business Services
- Wheelchair accessibility
- Free parking
- Pets allowed
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TripAdvisor Reviews Comfort Inn Owen Sound
Travel Blogs from Owen Sound
... the eerie music was leaking from the streetlights again, making it seem as though the apocalypse had happened and the entire outside world had been obliterated.Time seemed to dissolve as I waited, folding back on itself and spinning into circles so I forgot almost whether it was the beginning or the end. Or perhaps it was that time was revealing the truth of itself to me as something wholly interminable, like a labyrinth, something that ...
... to skip my dinner altogether and instead tuck straight into the Baileys and cider on the go. I managed a couple of hours solid party time: lots of chat with random people (Ski Valet Guy! Next Door Neighbour Guy!), lots of hugs and kisses brimming with goodwill, a few dance moves, one cigarette smoked while staring moodily at the night from the vantage of the balcony (which I regret hugely due to sore throat this morning), drawing on people's arms ...
... and you are separate from them and left trying to translate the murmurs of past conversations, feeling through words as though they were debris. Sometimes to remember is difficult and infuriating, it is as though you are trying to get the attention of someone who eternally has their their back turned towards you and you have no voice to yell with and no hand to reach out to grasp. Sometimes, worst of all, retrospectivity is futile and lonely and cold, ...
... next. Death, I expect, must often feel like that; when the end of life finally nears, one must wonder how it happened in such a rush, how did life go by so fast, even though the majority of days were no doubt ruled by a lethal boredom. The last moments on earth are perhaps the fiercest and angriest and greediest of them all, as we are inevitably betrayed by time in the end, a fact which should rightly provoke a final passion. Our lives are all ...
... t want to stay longer, he asked. I thought about it. He was reasonably attractive, had a nice Canadian accent, clearly was openminded. But then again, he said he was a house sitter between jobs. Not that there is anything wrong with this per se, but it did make it rather difficult to locate him on the spectrum of social relations that govern communities. Harder to classify a house sitter than a police officer, right? So I dashed off into the coffee ...