In the sacred space of the ladies’ lavatories, etched in a runny black marker on the dirty bathroom doors, the intoxicated scribble life’s greatest wisdom, poetry and advice for other women to admire.

While pissing (solo or in loud groups of three), we warmly appreciate washroom graffiti as if it were a sign from a higher power trying to drop us a hint about something. It’s in the humbling confines of the women’s washroom that we feel a collective female camaraderie: reinforced by “fuck him”, “you’re better than that” and “Johnny has herpes. Call a doctor” scribbles on the wall. It’s time to reflect on the bathroom wisdom our elder pissing sisters have bestowed on us. The dirty dive bar bathroom is a Pandora’s treasure chest of wisdom, and it’s trying to tell us something REALLY important:

Life is hard and then you die
Yes ladies, life is hard. As much as we kid ourselves that unflattering wrinkles, grey hair, digestive cramps and wild living experience gives us some honorary enlightenment that comforts us before death, it doesn’t. Herds of grandmothers face the same old problems we’re dealing with right now: loved ones who ‘forget’ to call, almost-dead spouses who drink milk out of the carton and moody strangers who are assholes – we’re all a bunch of forever children, dealing with aging differently. Then, in whatever circumstance, we die – and that’s it.

Don’t give up
This is written everywhere in Toronto. It’s stitched on tacky bright pillows, IKEA furniture, Queen West dog bowls, wrist tattoos, Trinity Bellwoods, Urban Outfitters coffee books, Converse sneakers and more. It’s self-explanatory. And it’s so vague you can literally apply it to anything you want. Don’t give up extra guacamole. Don’t give up on Lauren Conrad. Don’t give up your weird face wash ritual. Don’t give up dating. Don’t give up making fun of strangers. Don’t give up on group text with outdated friends from high school. Whatever it is that holds any gooey warmth in your heart, don’t give up.

Who farted?
Women don’t fart. Unlike men, who fart full-throttle cheeseburger gas from every pore, women naturally expel a sweet blend of vanilla, lavender and dandelions from a place that shall not be named. It’s an international mystery, right up next to some of the greatest philosophical questions of life including: “Does God exist?”, “Is there a Heaven?” – “Do women fart?” Another beautiful question to ask yourself while pissing into the warm dive bar toilet. Now flush, move on, and live your life woman.

Don’t quit your daydream
Daydreaming is the vibrator of the imagination. I do it everywhere. My daydreams are like a cheap Kodak Carousel, snapping pictures of blue suburban skies, living room sunlight and a Beatrix Potter-esque cabin in the woods, next to a Starbucks. Many of us have weird daydreams, featuring money, recognition, expensive moisturizing creams, pregnancy or stylish fedoras. Some of us already own a few of these daydream collector items. Whether you’re a capitalist’s daughter or a free-spirited outlaw without a suitcase, sometimes we forget about them. We don’t nurture our daydreams the way we really should. We forget about them and get caught up in other stuff: like salary, competition, Instagram followers, brunch, survival and ego. So don’t quit it, okay?

Winter is coming
Winter is always coming in Toronto. Even in the redeeming sweat of spring, the blazing heat of summer, the chilly breezes of fall – brace yourself.

Give zero fucks
Women spend the majority of their lives giving more and more fucks, let alone zero. Giving fucks requires a gradual inflation of a dangerous ego. Giving zero fucks means that you’re ready to leave your ego behind and embrace being a care-free fabulous asshole. For me, this means that when I’m 86 I’m not going to wear a bra and I’m going to piss wherever I want: in Trinity Bellwoods, Walmart aisles, Forever 21 and the corner of Yonge & Dundas Square. Giving zero fucks is different for every person: define what this means and do it for yourself.

I think the girl next to me just gave birth
Depending on the King Street bar you’re in right now, yes, the woman next to you might have just given birth. Now please call 911 and run out of the stall as fast as you can.

Suck a dick
Another vague one. Does she mean to say that society should suck a dick and shut up? Or like, does she mean we should suck dick because we have free will? I don’t know. Whoever wrote this was 12 shots deep, on her period and 19. I’ll admit though, it’s so trashy and angry, I like it. It feels good to write it too: suck a dick, society!

What would Buffy do?
Inside every single woman, there is a shallow high school cheerleader born and raised in the valley. She is a full-throttle karate chopping vampire slayer who is really sarcastic, rebellious and kicks vampire ass. So next time, you’re feeling disparity over size zero Zara pants, down on self-esteem or feeling crappy over some guy with a half-boner, take a moment and think: what would Buffy do? Buffy would chill out, drink green tea, take a yoga class then watch GIRLS re-runs and forget about it. That’s what she would do.

Jessie + Jessica
Aw, both their names start with a “J”. Let’s hope they’re still together, eating rainbow ice cream at the Big Scoop on College Street. Long live Jessie + Jessica. True love is trill.

Haters gonna H8 / Potatoes gonna potate / Graters gonna grate
We’re not chemically manufactured to love and appreciate every person we encounter. People hate because it’s a raw human emotion that requires power over another person. Mixed in a society ruled by money, segregation and class structure – well, hate is inevitable. Let people hate and don’t reciprocate. Human nature is funny.