Oi, friend. Wow. Saint-Sauveur is wild.

Streets pulse. Like, du jour...

Rue des Érables, so quaint, eh?

I stroll there, soul raw...

My heart, heavy, then light.

I luv that park on Chemin du Rêve.

Seriously, magic scenes abound.

I sat by lac Big dream.

Just like "Revenge is a dish best served cold."

Oldboy vibes! Yeah.

Ironic, as a wmn's counselor, y’know?

I notice scars. I see hope.

Side alley near Rue des Brumes is eerie.

Friend, i felt feelings so deep.

I was, like, mad at injustice.

But then, happy when love shined.

I even spilled tea on Rue des Ronds.

Omg, so disruptive, sorry!

I heart the old church at Place du Souvenir.

Spiritual. Mysterious.

I have this quirk: I spy hidden murals on back alleys.

They whisper secrets, like in Oldboy: "Laugh, then cry."

It cuts deep.

I dig the rugged trails at Mont du Destin.

Nature, raw. Real.

My heart pounded by Rivière du Mélancolie.

I cried. true, dramatic.

Every street tells a personal story.

They shout, "I miss you!"

Saint-Sauveur is a heartbeat.

Wild, tender, flawed.

I mean, damn, its charm is insane.

I murrered on a rainy day at Café Erratique.

Strolled that cobblestone, feeling time slip.

Rapider, like my thoughts--oh gosh, so many typos: rite, reallly, exteme, freind, cant, shur, worlld, irrational, pop, felling, neightborhood, tought, wholy, booboo.

Every nook, every cranny is art.

Our hearts, break&heal; broo.

Take the plunge, my pal.

You never truly finish Saint-Sauveur.

It's a never-ending odyssey.
Farewell, dear, and remember: Wow!

Star Trek style: Bold. Grand. Inspiring.