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Autumn does this to me every time.
I'll think I'm on top of things, together, happy, then BAM!
The brown funk comes and sits on my chest, makes it hard to breathe, to get up and do anything, hard to remember Why Am I Even Here?
I know it will pass. I know I have plans with friends, and soon.
But autumn is about the awareness of inevitable change.
It is the little-death of leaves falling and first frost, not the catastrophe of The Tower, struck by lightning. It is not tragic, this change.
In some ways that makes me even more sad.
Slow, gradual, inevitable; where is my catharsis?
I'll think I'm on top of things, together, happy, then BAM!
The brown funk comes and sits on my chest, makes it hard to breathe, to get up and do anything, hard to remember Why Am I Even Here?
I know it will pass. I know I have plans with friends, and soon.
But autumn is about the awareness of inevitable change.
It is the little-death of leaves falling and first frost, not the catastrophe of The Tower, struck by lightning. It is not tragic, this change.
In some ways that makes me even more sad.
Slow, gradual, inevitable; where is my catharsis?
